Prince
by Trigger Tinks
Summary: Set after 5th. Voldemort takes his horcrux into protective custody. Will Harry escape? Will he even find the point in trying to? The first chapter is a better summary than this... Warning: rape... eventually... and slash...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Nup, I don't own the Harry Potter person-man-character-fictionofmineimagination**

**Chapter One**

**Non**

Harry woke suddenly, shivering in a cold sweat. He slowly sat upon the bed, and once again took in his new surroundings.

Small, but not cramped. A bed along one wall, desk, small bookcase and a small in-the-wall wardrobe. It was bare and dark, and it almost seemed like moonlight was streaming in through the jail-barred door.

He had woken up in this strange place a few days ago. He had no idea how he got here, who took him, was anyone looking for him... The only this he had in way of information was the note on the table in the middle of the room saying he had 'nothing to fear.'

Oh. And the rules.

The rules were fiery letters burned into the darkest patch of the room. The burned so hot that they had seared into his eyelids, so that he could still see them when he closed his eyes. Harry was sure they were bewitched, because he had them memorised nearly the second he saw them.

Rule 1. Do not reveal yourself.

Rule 2. Do not release the prisoners.

Rule 3. Always attend dinner.

Rule 4. Do not commit suicide.

They didn't really make sense to him, but nothing about this situation did, so he let it lie. Someone would explain it to him eventually... If anybody was going to talk to him...

Grogily, Harry ploughed over to the bookcase and pulled out the book he was reading. It was some silly wizarding children's book. With dragons and warlocks and pirates and giants and heros - but at least it was something to read. It was a little comfort that whoever was keeping him here didn't want him to be bored witless.

He had just gotten to the part where the pirates captured the hero when a pain seared through his head, making him yell out and drop the book to the floor. He clutched his head and the pain slowly abated to a dull throb - then suddenly it was back to full strength. It did this three or four times till Harry finally got it.

It was a beacon.

It was calling him.

Harry edged towards the door - it had never occurred to him before to check if it was locked.

His hand grasped the bars and he slid the door open to the side. He made to go through it but a giant thunderous black cloud appeared before him, knocking him to the floor; and the fiery words appeared before him meanicingly.

**Rule 1. Do not reveal yourself.**

The cloud dissapated and a black mask fell from where it had been. Harry picked it up timidly and placed it onto his face. It stuck on like magic, a second skin, covering all of his face bar his mouth.

The beacon was still calling to him, so he hastily stood up and let it guide him through the corridors to a set of double doors. The pain in his scar told him exactly who was behind that door.

He took a deep breath and pushed the doors open. The room was normal sized with a dining room table sitting in the middle of it. Voldemort sat at the head of the table, enjoying a meal. He glanced up at Harry with a bored expression.

"I was wondering if you would ever get here. Close the door and come eat. Rule 3, Always - "

"Attend dinner," finished Harry.

An evil glint came to Voldemort's eyes and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.

"Indeed... Hurry up."

Harry shut the doors over and cautiously went over to the place set for him. Slowly he let his hunger overcome him and he ate everything on the plate.

Voldemort had finished long before Harry, and to pass the time, he sat back in his chair and watched Harry eat as he sipped his wine.

Harry was soon enough finished though, and a stifling silence settled in the room. Harry was tense as he waited for Voldemort to speak.

It was a long wait.

Voldemort set his wine glass down onto the table gently and kept his red eyes on Harry as he spoke.

"You feel pain around me, don't you? As well as my moods?"

The silence came again practically suffocating Harry.

"It's a question, Harry. Answer it."

Harry let his gaze flicker up to Voldemort. He seemed stern but patient. Harry looked back down quickly and noded.

"Yeah. Through my scar."

Voldemort nodded thoughtfully. "Interesting. I wonder why it..."

Harry was aware of the ever present gaze of Voldemort and started to feel exceptionally uncomfortable.

"I used to feel pain around you - your mother's protection causes the pain. It happened even when I was in mere spirit form."

The silence fell again. This time it seemed more tense to Harry. Voldemort was repeating things he already knew. What was he getting at? What was he building to?

Voldemort's wine glass filled up again distracting Harry.

"To create an object called a horcrux," said Voldemort grabbing Harry's attention back. "One must separate a piece of their soul and place it into that object. Do you understand?"

Harry caught Voldemort's level gaze asking him the question, demanding an answer.

"Yes," Harry chocked out, freeing himself from the depths of red.

"Tell me what a horcrux is then," he oredered with a smirk.

"It holds a bit of your soul."

Voldemort nodded.

"I have several of these horcruxes. You understand parceltongue, don't you?"

Harry was caught offguard and found himself nodding.

"Another trait you share with me."

Harry could sense something sinister slowly coming from the conversation.

Harry's anger got the better of him.

"Screw this!" he yelled jumping up, his magic threatning to turn everything upside-down.

Voldemort gave a bored look and rolled his eyes.

A fire suddenly consumed the inside of his brain. His eyes burned, his mouth screamed, his head felt ready to explode.

And then it was gone. Harry found himself on all fours, gasping into the carpet.

"I can control the pain now. Nifty, isn't it?"

Harry shot him a nasty look and started to get angry again when Voldemort raised his hand. "Why don't you sit back down first? I assure you, my way is much more fun."

Harry slowly let his painful limbs lead him back to the overturned chair to sit on. Voldemort graced himself with a smug look, Harry seethed with hate.

"To create a horcrux there are prepreations that must be made," he took a sip of his wine. "What's a horcrux?"

"It holds a bit of your soul," Harry spat. Voldemort narrowed his eyes.

"Yes. To make the horcrux you must dislodge the section of the soul you wish to part from yourself. This is done by three rituals and concluded with a murder."

Harry felt a wave of disgust come over as he realised how monstrous a horcrux was.

"I went to your house that Halloween with house very ready to make a horcrux. I was going to use your death - which I did, I suppose."

Harry started to shake. "What do you mean?" he asked trying to keep calm.

"When the killing curse re-bounded it split the dislodged part of my soul from me, and my soul - being rather intelligent - aimed itself for the most powerful and protected object in the room."

"No," Harry whispered, tears beginning to stream down his face.

"Do you see, Harry," Voldemort continued, observing his reaction. "The reason I haven't killed you yet, is because you are my horcrux. A piece of me."

Harry shot out the seat, stumbling backwards into the wall, franticly shaking his head. He wretched, and slid to the ground weak.

After a moment of sobbing, Voldemort rose from his seat and approached him, the mess disappearing from the carpet and Harry's self already. Voldemort gently took Harry's shoulders, stood him up and led him back to the chair again and sat him down.

"Get rid of it. Take it out. Make it gone," Harry pleaded.

Voldemort folded his arms and leaned back onto the table.

"What do you think I've been trying to do for the past two weeks. Telling you was the last resort."

Harry blanched. "Two weeks?"

Voldemort nodded. "I've learnt a few interesting tricks - and seen most of your memories as well."

"You looked at my memories?" Harry said - surprised to find the energy to put a touch of anger into his voice.

"Mainly second, fourth and fifth year. They were the most interesting."

Harry tried to accept it and move on.

"Why can't you just destroy it?"

Voldemort's eyes flared, Harry felt a sharp pain and winced badly.

"First things first. I will not be destroying it. It's safety and protection is of the utmost importance."

"Then why can't you get it out!" Harry cried.

"Over the years my soul has become more active, becoming more entwined with your soul and mind. Along with my mind. The pain you feel through your scar is your mother's _love_ trying to hurt the piece of me inside you, which in turn is rising up, trying to rejoin with me."

Harry took a deep breath.

"You mean... My mother's protection is the thing that causes the pain?"

Voldemort nodded sagely. "I can't take it out without damaging it."

Harry slowly nodded and rested his head in his hands.

"So you won't kill me," Harry said quietly.

"And if you kill me, my horcrux will slowly start to take over you, and you will become the next Dark Lord. You will become... me"

Harry closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on his breathing.

"So this is, what? A truce? Ok, yeah. So are you gonny let me leave now?"

"Where to? Your relatives? Because they're so loving. Your friends? They would ask questions, questiones to which, you won't have an answers to. Hogwarts? If Dumbledore had the slightest inkling of what you are he wouldn't hesitate to destroy you. So, no. You're not leaving. Not without me in any case."

Harry started to feel faint but pushed the feeling down.

"So what happens now?" he managed to make himself ask.

"You'll stay here. Doing whatever you want, as long as -"

"I follow the rules," Harry finished for him. "Do I even have a choice?"

Voldemort smirked.

"No."

**dUN DuN Dunn!  
Poor Harry :(  
Yay for Tommy tho woo! :)**

**Review?**

**Please?**


	2. Chapter 2

**For Makurayami Ookami yes I did just copy and paste that and Lacy. Cause they're totally awesome!**

**Disclaimer: Mesa no owna Harry Potta**

**Chapter Two**

**Non**

Harry managed to keep his cool until he got back to the hole-in-the-wall which was his room, then he exploded.

Tables overturned, bed ripped apart, books destroyed... Nothing was left in the wake of Harry's rage and frustration.

Except for his fear and helplessness.

Harry sat down and cried. Just let it all out. Fear. Hate. Rage. Pain. Sorrow.

Now he was left with something else in his heart.

Rebellion. Fight. Strength. A plan.

He needed to bind his time, till he could escape.

Harry had spent the next few days around the manor, keeping his mask on at all times. His new second skin. Not that he had a choice in that either, it was stuck on unless he was in that dungeon of a room. A room which had a habit of fading into the brickwork. So no one could find and enter it, he assumed.

The manor was large. Made mainly from stone. It was eerily reminisant of Hogwarts. Lots of empty rooms filled with junk; guest rooms; grand halls; studies - which were all connected to the giant library; living rooms; parlours; dancing halls; dungeons; and then there was the top floor. The Attic.

The whole floor was made to look as if it were underground, a basement. Cells with bars going from ceiling to floor lined the walls. Dimly lit, no windows. It was where 'high priority' prisoners were kept. And he was powerless to help them. He had tried. He had tried so many times to resist the rules, break them, but the magic wouldn't let him. If he tried to fight it... the pain would come, then paralysis, then his own magic would apparate him straight to Voldemort. And Voldemort would punish. He punished all attempts at rule breaking, and even more. Simple disobidience - he called it - would not be tolerated when he was going out of his way to _protect_ young Harry Potter.

Harry seethed on those days. Torture and imprison more likely. Whippings, stabs, spells, starvation, potions. Anything and everything. He even got his own cell, his own special torture chamber up in the Attic. Right in the middle. Blackened so no one could see in, so he couldn't see out. But he knew the prisoners were there. Listening, waiting...

Damn Rule Two! And Rule Three. Everyday the throb would start, and he would be _obligated_ to go down and dine with the Dark Lord. Harry figured out that 'dinner' could cahnge its time. 'Dinner' was whenever the Dark Lord called him. If he even remembered, Harry learned quickly to summon the elves for food in his room. But sometimes he was called and the Dark Lord wasn't there, most times he was, and then sometimes he would teach Harry. To better protect himself, of course. Not to corrupt him in the dark arts, _no_. Harry soon found it easier and less painful to obey more times than not. At least he wasn't punished for his hatred.

"Time for a lesson," said Voldemort rising from his place one night. Harry followed him down the hallway to a very large study with bookcases on one side of the room, and papers and desks on the other. Voldemort sat down in the armchair next to the crackling fire.

"This manor is Slytherin's manor," he stated a glass of something appearing in his hand. "Built by the very same magic as Hogwarts, and then some. This place is as ancient and sentient as Hogwarts. Magic lives in these walls."

Voldemort eyed Harry cooly, making sure he was paying attention. "The magic is so alive and so tuned into Slytherin's trait of parceltongue that ask..." he held up his glass "_Ice,_" he hissed in parceltongue. "And you shall recive," he continued as icecubes started to form in his glass.

Harry felt his jaw drop.

"I just say anything in parceltongue and it happens?"

Voldemort nodded. "Within reason of course."

Harry nodded and turned to the bookcases.

"_The green book there_," he hissed pointing at a book the shelf. The book disappeared then reappeared in his hand.

"Wow," he whispered...

But then again, other times it was different. Other times... He remembered. The plan, and his hatred all too clearly.

"Read this book and pick three rituals that you would use on yourself."

Harry picked up the slim book and looked it over.

"Sure."

And the next week Voldemort asked him about it.

"My favourites were the sight-seeing abilities and the feline thing."

"Why?" Voldemort asked leaning back in his chair.

"Thought they were the most practical. Being able to see and being able to climb and jump off buildings and stuff."

"That does sound practical," he murmured.

Harry felt his eyes get heavy.

"What did you do?" he slurred.

"I drugged you."

"Duh. Why?"

"To perform the rituals on you without any fuss."

Harry felt outrage in his mind but only slumped down in his seat. The world went black.

Harry woke up chained in the middle of a ritual circle.

"You've got about another two hours to go," came Voldemort's low voice from the shadows.

Harry nodded mutely, the smell of blood overwhelming his senses.

"What blood did you -"

"Lynx."

Harry nodded shakily.

"What about the other one?"

"Sight seeing? Did it yesterday."

"Yesterday?" Harry asked. "How long did you keep me under?" he asked slowly.

"This is the third day," said Voldemort softly.

Harry just accepted it. He hated it, but he couldn't control Him. Voldemort was phycotic - almost. Harry decided to just let him - at least until he could figure out a way to escape.

****************

**Dun dun dun! Ok so I'm not very good at the whole writing thing. So bare with me as the plot slow - slowly - unfurls (and it unfurls slowly because I've not really got one yet... but shh it's a secret!)**

**I must say, big lol/hiya to Lacy. Who gave me a lovely little review. Trying to start a fire without setting me a flame (I love play on words) A little misread on my bio. I HAVE updated and you know I'm not dead. It just wasn't this story... And if you think this was a long time for an update, try waiting three years... **

**I would also like to write a thank you to Lacy as she wrote an actual review instead of. Hello. I'm reading. Update. But I like those reviews too... better than none...(grumble grumble)**

**Thank you Kay. Wicked awesom was what she called my story I'll have you know...**

**Also the subtle hint from Britt "It's a really good start..." (Btw did you review twice? Or are my emails just screwed?)**

**Here's a list of all my lovely reviewers:**

**bored out my nut - lots of exclamations! Lots of fun**

**fifespice - a question that I didn't actually think anyone would care to know the answer to. I'll have to figure that one out... Wanna give me a hint?**

**Sabaku no Sable - very weird. Why would you do that? Lol, did you catch my experimental experimant on my hounds story :P**

**Makurayami Ookami - I LOVE YOU... hemhem... I dedicate this chappie to you** (and Lacy just cause she was real funny) **for not ONLY adding like all my stories, but reviewing then too. Hugs and kisses**

**Hand Steroids - I believe you shall also**

**Sorry if I missed you my emails are a bit wonky. Next time I shall name and shame those who have added me onto story alert but have not reviewed... BEWARE!!!!**

**I'm going to play a game. It called the...**

****

**I-WON'T-UPDATE-UNTIL-I-GET-EIGHT-REVIEWS-FOR-THIS-CHAPTER... game...**

Thank you for reading, please leave a review as you leave. If you can't hink of anything to say copy and paste this in:

**You're story is awesome. You are the most amazing person ever - bar mummy and (insert boyfriend/girlfriend name) - and you should update in your own sweet time. Thank you for bestowing this story upon us. We are not worthy.**

**:D**

**That should do the trick. God bless!**

**Tinks**

**I-WON'T-UPDATE-UNTIL-I-GET-EIGHT-REVIEWS-FOR-THIS-CHAPTER... game... hem.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I love the gilmore girls. May contain traces of nuts. I don't own Harry Potter. Contains milk. Contains slash.**

**Warning: This is getting a bit more mature... and it does conatain slash...**

**Chapter Three**

**Non**

He was left alone – mainly. He could wander around as much as he wanted to, as long as he obeyed the rules. So the mask, which had really become a second layer of skin, went on everyday and he explored. His reflexes were bizarre and he couldn't get used to them. The way he see things was different too. He could see how much he would need to jump, or run, to reach a certain place, and at what angle. Sometimes he couldn't stand it. It was a reminder that he was powerless.

Soon, all the doors in the stronghold castle… thing, had been opened – or locked especially. He then went outdoors.

It was woodlands. Cold, damp, green. Still in Britain then, he supposed.

Today though, it was sunny, and he was going to take advantage of that.

So he started walking. He walked for what seemed hours. Then he hit something.

It was like a wall. An invisible wall that shot straight up from nowhere. He put his hand up against it. It felt strange, like thick air. He pressed against it, it wouldn't give way. It was a ward, a barrior. His cage. So he did the only thing he could think of.

He battered it.

He pounded his fist until they were red raw and bleeding. He used up all his pent up anger and hate and fear. He kept going until he was so exhausted that he slumped to his knees and all he could do was sob. He hadn't moved even an inch forward.

The darkness and the cold were setting in, but he couldn't bring himself to move. The words 'dinner time' crept into the corner of his mind and kept pushing forwards until they were red buring fiery word on the back on his eyelids. But he couldn't bring himself to move. He couldn't, couldn't…

Smash!

The ground rushed up to meet him and he found himself sprawled across the ground. Blearily he blinked and sat up. He was in the dining room. But how? What had –

"It's dinner time," came Voldemort's voice from behind him. "Can't break the rules now, can we?"

Harry stood up and looked round at him slowly, thinking.

"You honestly mean that, don't you," he said. "I can't break the rules."

"Magic doesn't allow it."

"So in order for me to keep the rules…"

"It brought you here."

Harry closed his eyes and started to concentrate on his breathing, trying to ignore the helplessness that was beginning to overtake him.

"Come and eat," said Voldemort. "I won't have you starve."

Desperation seemed to stifle Harry's thoughts. The feeling of desperation and recklessness are not two traits that should be mixed. A flicker appeared in Harry's eye. Determination.

"Sit," demanded Voldemort. Harry bristled with anger as he slowly approached the chair. His hand curled round the back of it. Then he swung it up at Voldemort.

The chair smashed to pieces over Voldemort's head, leaving Voldemort completely unharmed by the attack. His eyes darkened. Harry trembled taking a step back. Voldemort rose and slowly approached. Harry backed up at the same pace, his whole body shaking in fear. He soon hit the wall and stood, shutting his eyes in anticipation.

"Harry, open your eyes."

Harry opened his eyes, staring at the ground. Voldemort loomed over him, pressing their bodies against the wall.

"Look at me," he said, dangerously soft. Harry trembled as he lifted his eyes to Voldemort's. Voldemort lifted his hand to the side of Harry's face in an almost gentle manner. Harry's fear doubled. This was far more terrifying then the pain which would normally follow.

"Did you think that you would be able to hurt me here? In my own house?" he asked quietly. Harry looked down. Voldemort steered his face back up, spreading his thumb out to touch Harry's lips. "Did you think I was unprotected?" he whispered in Harry's ear, pressing against him harder. Harry started to squirm under him.

"Stay still, Harry," he said lifting his hand to play with the hair just above Harry's scar. Harry immediately tensed. If Voldemort touched his scar, the pain would send him into unconsciousness.

"Pain evidently isn't a strong enough motivator for you to... Keep your manners," he said lightly. "But right now? This fear that's radiating off you? I want you to remember it with _perfect_ clarity," he said. "Because next time I will act -"

Harry jerked himself and his face away as he felt Voldemort undo his trousers. Voldemort backhanded him.

"_Look at me!_" he spat. Harry slowly brought his eyes up. Voldemort smirked at him. "Next time I will act on those fears," he pulled down Harry's trousers slowly. Harry felt himself start to hyperventilate. "Is that understood, boy?" he breathed over his face.

"Yes," Harry managed to choke out.

"Good," he said, then pressed his lips onto Harry's. Harry was paralyzed with fear as Voldemort invaded his mouth with his tongue. "Now sit and eat."

Harry didn't sleep that night. He simply couldn't stop shaking. The next day he confined himslef to his room. Keeping himself out of sight. Voldemort wasn't at dinner that day. Or the next. Or that weel. Harry eventually got himself together and found himself something to do. He set up camp in the library, and learned everything he could. When he escaped this hell hole, he would be ready. He would fight.

Another thing he began to do.

Pray. That help would come, and quick. He couldn't get out of this one alone. And he was terrified that eventually... He would break.

**Haha!**

**You see how this game works? I see eight reviews on my chapter, and I update! How magical is that? Now, I'm changing the game a little bit. **

**At least three reviews have to from logged in memebers, got that? Good good. **

**I-WON'T-UPDATE-UNTIL-I-GET-EIGHT-REVIEWS-FOR-THIS-CHAPTER... game... hem. Including three signed in reviews.**

**Now I;m sure we've all noticed that the second main character in this is Billiboy Weasley, so watch out for him. Start thinking about how he's getting intro'd into my plot'o. **

**What is it with the rhyming today?**

**Oh well.**

**Again, for those who are unable I will reprint my generic review for you:**

**You're story is awesome. You are the most amazing person ever - bar mummy and (insert boyfriend/girlfriend name) - and you should update in your own sweet time. Thank you for bestowing this story upon us. We are not worthy.**

**:D**

**I-WON'T-UPDATE-UNTIL-I-GET-EIGHT-REVIEWS-FOR-THIS-CHAPTER... game... hem. Including three signed in reviews.**

**Hey, cyber cookies for the ppl who can guess what non at the top of the chappies means beofre it becomes obvious :P**

**Lurve from Scotland!**

**Tata!**

**Tinks**

**AGG! Sorry. This chappie was not a good one for me. Too jarry. And then I had to repost it cause I've ot slept and I did the tiniest mistakes.... Ok well um, huge really... but... hm... I finished all my exams today :D**

**Lurve**

**Me!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I watch Hero****e****s. I am a scifi geek. Harry Potter is not mine. I think pirates are cooler than ninjas.**

**Chapter Four**

**Non:Boy**

Two months.

Harry stared at the calendar on his wall.

Two months.

He was sick of it. Hatred rose in him until he couldn't trust himself to speak in Voldemort's presence. Else he'd get a _crucio_ or something worse. That night had really freaked him out, like it was suppose to he figured. Voldemort was psychotic; he might go through with it, he might not. But there hadn't been a repeat incident, mainly because Harry hadn't given reason for it.

But never doubt that for Harry, it can always get worse.

At least that's what he told himself as he walked down the corridor. Perhaps if he truly believed it, the accident would never have happened. But it did.

An explosion came from the wall beside him. Harry was thrown across the corridor, rubble falling on him. It was Voldemort's potion lab. Cauldrons fell over, and potions mixed, and they fell upon the unconscious Harry Potter.

****

Voldemort had immediately taken Harry to the medical room. It was a small room, meant for himself and a special few. It held all the healing potions, and he was going to need them.

He decided to ignore the most obvious problem.

He began to heal the injuries, concussion, broken arm, scraps and whatnot. That was easily fixed. Then he collected a sample of the potion mixture from the corridor and started to analyse it. He had checked Harry's condition; it was stable.

Now he just had to figure out what Harry's condition _was_. He seemed to have aged.

Backwards.

If he were going to make a guess he would say Harry was five or six years old. He still looked the same, and the horcrux was secure. Very resilient. Everything was fine, but he was a child.

He supposed there was nothing else to do but wait for him to wake. It was the only way to gauge his condition. So he drew up a chair and waited. He slowly pondered what he would do in each case scenario. If he retained all his memories of being a teenager, he supposed the best thing to do was fix it and get him back to his original age.

But if he didn't have his memories… It would be easier. He could raise him to be loyal, or get someone else to. Or simply send him away somewhere. Out of the way, out of trouble.

Voldemort snorted at that one. This boy attracted more trouble then honey flies.

So either way the boy was staying here.

Argh! If the boy had forgotten everything, he'd have to learn everything again. Spells and –

Wait no. People with amnesia still remembered how to talk so perhaps... Voldemort shook his head. He was going to have to do some research.

The boy started to shake, tossing and turning. A bad dream? Voldemort was on his feet and by the bedside in an instant.

He shot up and curled up into a ball, sobbing.

"Shh," said Voldemort gingerly placing a hand on Harry's back. "You're safe here."

"It was so dark," Harry sniffled. His voice small and high pitch. Exactly like a child's voice. Voldemort sat down next to him and placed his arm around him.

"It's nice and bright here," he said. Voldemort grimaced. _Nice and bright?_ He wasn't very good at this. He was momentarily startled when the child burrowed himself into Voldemort's side.

"Do you know who I am?" Voldemort asked quietly.

"Yuh huh. You're Voldemort."

Voldemort frowned. "That's right," he said keeping his voice light. "What else do you remember?"

The child shrugged. "It feels long ago. Kinda fuzzy," he said sitting up and frowning. "Where's this?" he asked looking around the room.

"This is a medical room. You were hurt, so I brought you here."

"Oh. So I'm not well?" he asked frowning.

"Well... not exactly," Voldemort said frowning.

"Can I have ice-cream?" he asked with a big smile.

"What?" Voldemort snapped.

The boy withdrew a bit. "Cause I'm not well. When... Dudley wasn't well, he got lots of ice-cream," he said softly.

Voldemort stared at him for a moment. He remembered who he was, and his cousin. Probably everything, but he just didn't... care?

Of course, he had a child mentality. He would see like a child, think like a child... Trust like a child?

"Then you can have ice-cream," Voldemort said. "Just let me -"

_"Ice-cream please!"_

Voldemort stared at the child as a bowl of strawberry ice-cream appeared in his hands, along with a spoon and a napkin.

_"Thank you!"_

The magic in the house seemed to buzz a little. Like a 'you're welcome'. But Voldemort was more impressed that Harry had thought to do that; he had never done that before.

This... This was an intresting developement.

**Look at that. I got the reviews and the chappie came out.**

**Now a few of you complain that the whole holding my chapters 'hostage' thing (lol to WalterDash for coining that expression) is unfair, but it'll work. The thing with me is that I'm EXTREMLY lazy. But I keep my promises, so if I say I'm going to update after a certain amout of reviews, I'll feel obligated to keep that promise.**

**Now a few shout outs to reviewers:**

**CatWriter: So off the bat, and yet so completely encouraging, Thank you. Write ur own little fic. Trust me when I say everything you've written will ****_not_**** happen in this story. Except that mimic thing, you might see that kick in somewhere in my writings...**

**Walter Dash, your secret's safe with me ;)**

**BrookMcTirre: Ahh! Your review got cut off! Thank****s**** for the grammar stuff. I - and when I say I, I really mean someone else, will fix it as I go along. One must remember this site is here to help young writer grow as well as show off. I know my style is a little jarring. I write what I see and sometimes the words don't flow. It'll get better! I know about story alerts and blah blah, but as ****you****'ll see above****,**** I'm very lazy. I need the promise to keep me obligated. Love!**

**All my other reviewers, thank you. You've made this chappi possible! Literally... :P**

**So eight reviews - and new rule again. I'm putting two days inbetween updates otherwise ppl won****'****t get a chance to ponder over it!**

**Lurve!**

**Tata!**

**Tinks**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I watch Gilmore. I am love Battlestar Galactica. Harry Potter is not mine. I think pirates are cooler than ninjas.**

**Chapter Four**

**Boy**

Voldemort watched through a monitoring spell what the boy was doing. He was exceptional. The feline rituals had really changed the boy's ability and gracefulness. And now that he was a child, he was creative and fearless enough to experiment with them, until it was second nature to him. The boy scaled up walls and hung on beams, slid down banisters, jumped off platforms and always landed on his feet. And something else. Something strange.

The Manor.

It _liked _him.

It sounded stupid. An inanimate object having feelings, but the house seemed to do anything for the little boy. Doors would appear, corridors emerge, and magic would swarm out to protect him when he jumped, like a safety net - it wasn't needed of course, but it happened all the same. And boy had discovered something else, that if he asked very nicely the house would take him into the walls or floor and transfer him out of another almost instantaneously. He could move about in a second. He was like a ghost in the house.

He had started a game. A slightly dangerous game, but a game Voldemort allowed anyway. The game was to sneak up on Death Eaters and steal something from them. A watch or wallet or something like that, without the house's help and without the Death Eater noticing. He was getting rather good at it. A few close shaves but the house had moved him before he was noticed. Perhaps he ought to...

No. No harm was done by it. He'd stop it if it became a problem. The child was extremely well behaved when it came to him. Probably an echo from his older self.

It was the only way to describe the boy's memories. They were like echoes. He remembered things when he was reminded, but if it wasn't brought to his attention he simply didn't think on it.

There was another game Voldemort had managed to get boy to play. He had managed to get him to pretend that Harry Potter was a different person and he lived in the dungeons, and that everything he knew about Harry Potter he knew because Harry had told him. It had taken a lot of reasoning but eventually boy agreed to it. Then came the problem of 'if he's Harry who am I?' which Voldemort did not expect the kid to grasp. The boy wanted a name. So he said his name was Boy. Kid seemed happy enough with it. So far.

*******

Harry tossed and turned in his bed. He was having a nightmare. The house tried to wake him but couldn't. He was trapped in it. He shot up awake, tears running down his face. He got out of bed and ran down the corridors until he reached the room where Voldemort was. He always knew where Voldemort was.

"Boy? What's wrong?"

Boy ran over to him sobbing. Voldemort hesitated for a second then lifted him up into his arms and sat him on his knee.

"Shh, it's alright. You're okay. I've got you," he said holding the boy close and rolling his eyes.

"It was awful. They were all fighting and then Sirius fell and he died and it was awful," he spluttered incoherently.

Voldemort frowned. Was this a sign his teenaged self was rising to the surface?

"Boy, do you understand that was a memory?" he asked gently.

"From older self, yeah," he said snuggling into Voldemort. Voldemort grimaced slightly but didn't protest.

"Well, memories can't hurt you. They may rattle you, but they've already happened. They're gone, and it won't happen again."

Boy sniffled and looked up. "Promise?"

"Yes," he replied lifting him as he stood up. "Let's get you back to bed."

Voldemort tucked him back in and watched as he immediately dropped off again. He shook his head and went back to his study, and began to work on the reversal.

***

Weeks passed. Every day a new adventure to Boy. A new game. He'd never had this much fun or play in his life.

He hung silently from the ceiling beam watching a small group of Death Eaters. They were talking about something important. Boy didn't care what, as long as their attention was elsewhere. He slowly let himself hang just above their heads. One of them was wearing a hat. He'd never stolen a hat before. He gently loosened it and lifted it slowly from the man's head. The man was concentrating so much he didn't even notice his hat was gone. Harry swung himself up and nearly let out a giggle. He dropped to the ground silently. He snuck up to the second man, the first man's firmly on his head. He looked inside his pockets and drew out a handkerchief. He went up to the last man and withdrew his wallet. But he was caught.

"Oi! Who're you?"

"That's my hat!"

"My wallet!"

"My handkerchief! Get him!"

Boy turned and ran down the corridors, intending on finding Voldemort. A spell grazed his cheek, going through the black mask he always wore and cutting him. Boy ran faster than he had ever before, still pursued by the three men.

"Dad!" he cried out as he saw Voldemort talking to someone in the corridor. Voldemort turned and immediately picked up the boy.

"I did something silly," he said quickly. Voldemort had concern in his eyes.

"Where did that cut come from?"

Suddenly the three men turned the corner and skidded to a halt as they saw their Lord holding the child.

"My Lord," one of them panted. "The child stole..."

"Is that true?" he asked Boy. Boy looked down.

"Yeah," he grumbled.

"And you got caught?" he asked.

"Well I out ran them so..." he said with a little bit of a grin on his face.

Voldemort frowned. "You can't do this anymore. You got hurt. I don't want you pick pocketing anymore, understand?"

"Yes, Daddy."

Voldemort felt his tummy flutter. He suddenly realised this was the first occasion Boy had ever called him that. The fear must have done it.

"Now apologise and return what you stole," he said putting him down.

Boy slowly walked towards the three men.

"I'm sorry for stealing from you and I hope I've not been too much of a pest," he said holding out the hat with the wallet and the handkerchief in it.

"Thank you for returning our things. I think we would all prefer it if you didn't do it again," said one of them kneeling down and taking the stuff from him.

"All done!" said Boy turning to Voldemort.

"Good. Now go to your room."

Boy's face fell, "Aww, but -"

"But nothing. I've let you do this for too long. Now, off with you."

Boy grumbled as he trudged down the corridor. As soon as he was out of sight Voldemort turned to the three men.

"Now, I'm not going to get into how a child managed to steal from all three of you. Or how he outsmarted and outran you. Or why you even chased a child down these halls, assuming he was a nobody. No, what I want to know is," he said. "Which one of you cast that spell?" he asked darkly.

The three men stood trembling.

"Or could it be all of you cast lethal spells at a child of six in my house and you don't know who it was that hit my boy?"

The three men looked at each other.

"Well then. I'll simply have to punish you all. Lucius," he said to the man behind him whom he was previously talking to. "You may leave. And stay silent on this matter."

"Yes, my Lord," he said, relief flooding through him. He turned his back and walked away, trying to ignore the screams that followed him down the corridor.

**Awww, lookat that. Voldie's getting attached to him. Slightly… Well… sozi my updating has not happened. Wee bitty of hecticness over on my end. So…**

**Lunaisthebest: I got the vibe you didn't get what I was saying in the previous chapter. Harry isn't very aware of what's going on. Hopefully I made it a little clearer here...**

**Walter Dash: Voldie is going to be over his akwardness around very quickly, but there will be some 'ahh I'm a Dark Lord I hate kids' moments to come. Should be fun!**

**Love to all my reviewers. Want a little message? Write something I can respond to.  
**

**Tata!**

**Tinks**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. The boogie men scare me.**

**Ha! This is funny, this WAS about to be the third chapter Four. It's okay I caught it. It's now...  
**

**Chapter SIX (so much for betas man...)  
**

**Boy****:****Non**

Voldemort sat trying to work on some important documents. however he was finding it exceptionally difficult as Boy was standing in the room swinging his arms around. Voldemort sighed and put down his pen.

"Was there something you wanted boy?"

"No, not really."

"Then why are you here?"

"I'm bored. Can we play a game?"

"I'm very busy, Boy. Maybe later."

"But I'm bored now!"

"Why don't you go... Make a list of everyone in the Attic Dungeon?"

Boy quirked his head over to the side and thought for a moment.

_Please say yes and go away_ Voldemort thought.

"Okay!" Boy exclaimed. "I'll organise everyone! Thank you, bye bye!"

He shot out of the room like a speeding bullet and Voldemort rubbed his temples. The child was starting to get annoying, and loud. Very loud.

***

Bill looked up with curiosity as he saw a child appear in the corridor of the room. He was small, and wore a black mask. He was carrying a lot of stuff and soon it scattered all over the floor. The boy made a whiney noise. Suddenly all the things gathered up and appeared in a draw cart for him. He clapped his hands excitedly. He got out a marker pen and a plaque and went to the nearest cell. He peered into it, wrote on the plaque and slapped it onto the door.

_Empty_

He went along all the cells dragging the cart behind him, slapping on the plaques as he went. He came to Bill's cell.

"What's your name?" he asked brightly.

Bill tilted his head and frowned at the child.

"Bill Weasley. Who are you?" he asked back creeping up to the bars and sitting across from the child.

"I'm Boy," he replied scribbling on the plaque in his hand. "What's your job or whatever?" he asked looking up with bright eyes.

"I'm a Curse Breaker," Bill replied slowly. The boy frowned.

"Are you sure you're not something else... Like a Warder?"

Bill looked puzzled at Boy. "Quite sure," he said certainly.

"Can you tell me what wards are on this cell?" Boy asked balancing on the balls of his feet excitedly.

"I would need my wand," Bill said slowly. Boy snorted.

"No you don't. I'll be back soon!" he said jumping up and slapping the plaque onto the bars of the cell.

Bill heard the boy run up to the next cell and started to think about his cell. He already knew the wards on it, and the weaknesses, and the strengths of it. He knew every knook and cranny of it.

And he knew he wasn't getting out of it.

He continued to watch the boy in fasination as he went round all the cells asking prisoners for their name and occupation. It was strange. This Boy, who was he? Why was he here?

Bill was almost scared to think on the question.

True to his word Boy came back.

"Well?"

"Three wards. One for keeping me in, one for keeping other people out, and another for my status."

The boy seemed to positively glow. Then frowned.

"I don't know if you right or not," he said stumped.

"Why don't you ask someone? Like your father?" he asked lightly. Boy smiled.

"Of course. Dad will know."

"Who is your dad?" Bill asked again.

"The Dark Lord. He one of my daddies."

"One of your daddies?" Bill asked faintly.

"Yup. I have my mummy and my daddy and my new daddy."

Bill frowned, sorting through the logic. A stepfather was it? Okay then.

"What age are you?"

"Sixteen."

The answer threw Bill completely. The boy was completely serious and unphased. Maybe he meant six?

"Why are you here? Why are you not with mummy?"

"Mummy's dead," the boy said quietly.

"That's very sad. Is... New daddy taking good care of you?"

Boy was suddenly exstatic and nodded his head profusely.

"He's the bestest. I've got to go! Byebye Bill Weasley!" he said running off.

Bill found himself waving back.

**Bill wasn't sure** how much time had passed when he last saw Boy. A week maybe? More? But next time he came, Boy was prepared.

"You're Bill Weasley?" he asked cradling a board in his hand. Bill nodded his head from his sitting position on the floor. He was right up next to the bars - something the prisoners were _discouraged_ from doing, but Bill got a clear view to the door and he wanted to see how the door wards worked.

"Ron Weasley's big brother?"

Bill's head snapped up to look at Boy. He had asked it innocently enough, but how did he know that? Did they have Ron? _Merlin, please no._

"Harry said that Ron is really good at chess - but I didn't know how to play chess so I figured you might be able to teach -"

"Wait a minute. Harry? Harry who? Potter?" Boy nodded his head slowly. "He's here? A prisoner? You talk to him?" Boy nodded again.

"But you can't tell father, he'll get angry," Boy whispered sitting crossed legged up against the bars. "Can we play? Can you show me how to play?" he asked lifting up a chess board.

Bill was at a loss of what to say. This child had no name, an evil father, and he wanted to learn chess from a prisoner. The kid just wanted to play...

"Of course," he replied getting closer to the bars. "Of course I'll teach you."

And so every day Boy would come up and play chess with Bill. Bill would never admit it, but he was growing attached to the kid. He was so sweet - innocent - something rare in his surroundings.

"This is no fun!" Boy declared suddenly standing up.

"What do you mean? You were doing good there!"

"I mean these bars..." he said frowning. He put his finger to his lip in thought then suddenly snapped his fingers.

"_Ssssesssssasss..._"

Bill was horrified at the parseltongue coming from Boy's mouth. Suddenly he was sitting up against the wall with one of his upper arms shackled to the wall and the chess board appeared beside him on a bucket - so it was raised off the ground. He looked back up to Boy in time to see him step through the bars as if they didn't exist at all and sit down across the chess board from Bill. He gave a big smile.

"Much better," he said happily making his move. "Your go."

So it came to be that Boy would simply appear in Bill's cell for their daily chess games, and they became fast friends.

**

"Voldemort?"

Boy always referred to him as Voldemort now. He thought it sounded grown up.

"Yes, Boy?"

"Can I have a birthday?"

Voldemort was slightly stunned. He kept forgetting how childlike the child was. Stupid really.

"Of course. When do you want it?"

The boy frowned. "That's not how it goes. The mummy usually picks the Birthday. Since I don't have a mummy, it's going to have to be you."

Voldemort nearly burst out laughing at that. He was so silly like this.

"I suppose they do. How about October? The tenth?"

Boy beamed and bounced in his chair. "Thank you!"

Voldemort caught himself chuckling and abruptly stopped trying to disguise it as a cough. Then there was silence for a few moments. A few precious moments.

"Voldemort?"

"Yes Boy?" he asked, already dreading the answer.

"Can I get a broom for my birthday?"

**

Boy skipped down the hallways happy in the knowledge that he may get a broom when his birthday came around.

"You!"

Boy spun as he saw an angry man point his wand towards him.

"This will serve you right! _Crucio!_"

Harry dived down and kicked the legs out from under the man, caught the flying wand and pointed it down towards the man. The stared up in shock.

"But, but, but - you were a child!"

Harry suddenly froze as he suddenly realised he was back to his teen aged self.

Voldemort suddenly careered round the corner. Harry saw the shock register for a moment, but he didn't let it phase him.

"MacNailson. What a shame," he waved his wand and the man disappeared.

Voldemort slowly approached Harry and gently took the wand from Harry's hand.

"What do you remember?"

Harry looked up at Voldemort, getting over his shock, and the hatred Voldemort remembered glinting in Harry's eyes returned.

"Everything. Clear as crystal. I still hate you."

Voldemort narrowed his eyes slightly. Something was off about that statement, something not quite right.

"I'm sure you do. How did you change?"

"I dunno. It was just so quick, I had to protect myself and I was there. When I heard 'crucio' I knew I had to move. So I did. The Death Eater might be able to tell you more."

"It didn't hurt?"

"No," said Harry absentmindedly picking at his clothes. "Why do these still fit?"

"I charmed them. In case this happened."

"Oh," he responded. "Thank, I guess."

Voldemort frowned again. Harry would have never thanked him before. Could it be that being Boy has affected him?

"I'm really tired. I wanna go to bed," Harry said rubbing his eyes. He was acting like a child now. Then suddenly before Voldemort's very eyes he changed. Bones popped and shrunk and fingers shortened. He became Boy again.

Boy yawned.

"The mean man won't come back will he?" he asked lifting his arms up.

"Of course not," Voldemort said automatically picking him up.

"Good," he said sleepily. "I'm glad elder was there. He protected me."

"About elder -"

Voldemort was cut off by the gentle sounds of Boy sleeping. He supposed it could wait till later.

**Ha! (Another) funny story. As I was writing this chapter, my wireless keyboard ran out of battery. I thought okay replace batteries. Nope. The slap wouldn't come off. So I thought okay, wait till my lovely strong daddy comes and make him do it. Nope. Oh we replaced the batteries alright. No avail. We reset it, restarted it... Nope. So we bought a new keyboard the next morning. Then my mother hogged it all day. So three days later, we have the story. And you people say I don't love you.**

**What fun! Lookie, it's Bill!! And Harry's back. Joy joy.**

**Some responces:**

**Tenma: Ho! How'd you get such good insight :P Look at the chapter names... They'll be subtle hints on what's to come...  
**

**Prongster: Sorry! This story will get very confusing and sometimes it looks like I contradict myself but I'll try not to. In my head it all makes sense. Boy knows he used to be older, but he plays a game with other people that Harry's a different person. I'll try and make it easier to understand as I go along so bare with me. (Or bear, rawr!)  
**

**Love to all my reviewers. Want a little message? Write something I can respond to. Here's a question for you: How'd you like Voldie in my chappie? Is he too cuddly? Or is he eil and cunning and knows being nice to Boy will affect Harry? And he changed back to Boyness? Whaz up with that?**

**Tata!**

**Tinks**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **

**The following disclaimer does not belong to me:**

**I do not own Harry Potter. All I own is my rubber duck so please don't sue.**

**Chapter SEVEN**

**Boy:Non**

Boy was running through the small wood outside the manor. Climbing trees, jumping from them, getting mucky, mud pies, worms... all the sorts of things a boy should do for fun. It had been raining the day before so there were puddles everywhere, just waiting to get splashed in! However, all the running and the jumping and the splashing took a lot out of Boy so he sat down next to his favourite puddle to rest a bit.

This puddle was his favourite because it was the clearest and deepest. You could see the sky in it, he thought. Boy leaned over the water and looked at his reflection.

Harry suddenly froze, and re-looked at himself. The change into his teenaged self had been quick and painless - he had barely noticed it. His mind was far too consumed by what he saw.

Harry ran back to the house and into his room - not caring if he got dirt everywhere. He pulled off his mask and hissed to the house - _'A mirror would be nice, please.' _

The house seemed hesitant to give it to him, but soon enough a large full length mirror started to crystallize before him. When it was done Harry looked at himself properly for the first time in over a month.

His hair was no longer brown and messy, but black and more curly than messy. His nose had become sharper and his cheekbones higher, a mole had disappeared. His face just... Didn't look the same.

But the thing Harry hated the most was his eyes.

They had become slightly unnatural. A little bit odd. It took him a moment to place it, but they seemed reflective and narrower - like cats' eyes. They were also blue. The same shade of blue that he knew Voldemort used to have when he was younger.

Harry tried to calm down a bit and slipped the mask on, which he noticed had changed colour from silver to black. The mirror slowly melted away and Harry changed out of his muddy clothes into something more presentable, then he left to see Voldemort.

Harry stepped through the wall silently, just as he normally did as his younger self, and stood leaning against the wall until Voldemort addressed him. That was the rule in the study. Don't interrupt, just wait.

"Boy, what -" Voldemort looked up and caught sight of Harry's teenage form.

"Is the matter?" he finished.

Harry stood for a few moments trying to come up with the right words to say.

"I looked in a mirror today. I look different from what I remember."

"Yes you do."

Harry frowned. "It's just a glamour isn't it?"

"No."

Harry didn't quite take it in.

"Is that all?" Voldemort asked. Anger surged through Harry.

"No that is not bloody all! What the hell did you do to me!" he yelled, coming towards him.

"Blood ritual," Voldemort said unaffected by Harry's tantrum.

"What does that mean?" Harry snarled at Voldemort, putting his weight on the desk.

"It means that you are now related to me. Therefore you look like me."

Harry's anger grew exponentially and things in Voldemort's office started to fly and break apart. Voldemort sat unamused behind the desk.

"Change me back," Harry snarled.

"Why?" Voldemort challenged.

"I am all I have left of my parents. I won't let you take them from me again! Change me back!"

"Your eyes were too distinctive. You'd have been found out by now."

Harry froze.

"How long have I been like this?" Harry whispered.

"I did it at the same time as the other rituals," Voldemort said lightly. "A month or two maybe."

Harry's magic exploded. Furniture flew apart, papers caught fire, and Voldemort skidded back in his chair a few inches.

Voldemort looked furious. For once Harry wasn't afraid of Voldemort's wrath, he himself was far too angry to care.

"_Crucio!_"

Harry dodged the spell and threw a ball of magic back at Voldemort. Voldemort batted it away with his wand, leaving a sizeable dent in the wall.

"_Neski! Provra!_"

Harry dodged by running back through the wall. Voldemort stepped out after him. Harry started to throw spells of his own.

"_Reti! Milltorvra!_"

Voldemort cast a shielding spell and the spells dissolved.

"_Impedia!_" Harry hit the floor as the spell flew over him hitting the wall behind him and causing the wall to collapse. Harry yelled in pain as rubble hit him, but he slowly got up. Death Eaters had started to gather to see what the ruckus was about, watching the duel with interest.

"_Velose! Preta!_" Harry cast out the spells, hoping his wandless magic would hold out for a little longer.

"_Crucio!_" Voldemort yelled in return.

"_Wall!"_ Harry hissed. A wall surged up and protected Harry from the spell, then vanished. The house it seemed, was on Harry's side.

"_Caresco!_" Voldemort yelled, now furious. The spell hit its mark and Harry fell to the floor screaming. Voldemort slowly approached him. Harry weakly tried to lift himself, but seemed to be completely drained of energy. All he managed to get to was his hands and knees. Voldemort was next to him now, Harry shut his eyes - knowing what was coming.

"I didn't expect you to last as long as you did. Well done, boy," he said gently. Harry felt furious that Voldemort had the audacity to congratulate him: as if he seeked Voldemort's approval. Another part of him though, a very small part of him, was pleased at the recognition of his abilities.

Voldemort swung his foot into Harry's ribs.

"However, if you dare confront me like that _again_," he spat crouching down next to the whimpering Harry. "I will put you in a box. And you'll never see the light of day again," he whispered. Suddenly Harry phased back into Boy.

"I'm sorry, daddy," he cried. Voldemort tenderly picked him up.

"I know you are, little one. Come along now. We'll get you all healed," he said gently to the distraught boy.

"Do I get ice cream?" he muttered sleepily.

"No, boy, you're being punished. I can't give you ice-cream," he admonished.

"Okay," he said, and drifted off to sleep in Voldemort's arms.

***

Voldemort leaned against the table in the middle of the room he gave Harry. This was the fourth time the boy had changed. Each time there was a trigger. The first time was an adrenalin rush, in the face of danger. The same with the other times. The situations called on Harry to be his teenaged self, fast and able. This time the situation needed Harry because the thought process was more complicated than could be managed by a six year old. So if Harry's thoughts became more adult it would create a reaction of some sort and he would become his teenaged self. Therefore the reaction could be controlled. Yes, this little... accident could be fixed. But maybe he'd wait a little while longer. He quite liked the boy as a child. He was quite impressionable when he was in his younger state, and he had seen the affects of it in the teenager. It was interesting. Very interesting...

***

Boy sat and ate his dinner humming gently. Voldemort wasn't dining with him today, but that was okay. Sometimes he was very busy and had lots of important work to do. He neatly finished his dinner and slid off the seat when Voldemort entered the room.

"Boy! I'm glad you're still here. I thought I'd miss you," Voldemort said automatically picking the child up and sitting him on the table.

"I just finished up. Are you hungry?" Boy asked. Voldemort shook his head.

"I need you to drink this," he said holding out a vile. Boy frowned and took the vile and inspected it.

"Is this going to make me better?"

"Maybe. We'll have to see," Voldemort said slipping the cork off the top of it. Boy drank it quickly.

"What -"

Harry fell off the table and hit the floor, clutching his stomach.

"It doesn't usually hurt that much," Harry said as he stood. "Am I fixed now?" he asked slowly.

"No. It will take a while. This is just a preliminary test. It hurts because it's a trigger. The trigger gets your body to become yourself again."

"How long does it last?"

"We'll have to see. I have a few questions for you," he said sitting down in one of the chairs. Harry stayed standing. "What do you remember?"

"Everything."

"Really?"

Harry paused before he answered.

"It's odd."

"Odd how?"

"I'm getting to it," he said rolling his eyes. Voldemort noted it. He wouldn't have done that before.

"It's like it happened a long time ago. But I remember every second of it."

"So, your perception's off? Like it was childhood, but sharper."

"Yeah, like childhood. How did you..." he trailed off. "Ah, of course. It's the same way that I describe my older memories when I'm a kid."

Voldemort nodded.

"So, how does this work?" Harry asked lightly.

"What?"

"The potion?"

"It's a trigger. Basically it's... raised certain chemicals levels in you, so you'll switch more often."

"Will it always be this painful?"

Voldemort shrugged.

"We'll have to see."

Harry shot him a glare.

"Are we done?"

Voldemort nodded.

"You may go."

Harry slunk out of the room as Voldemort summoned himself a glass of wine. The next few days were going to be interesting.

**Look at me. Got the chappie out. Feel the pride. I was just about to write feel the proud - but that makes no sense, so I didn't, but I have now... Oh dear...**

**CatWriter: Again nearly completely off the bat :P Ur just gonna have to wait and see dearie. And Boy is NOT a split personality. He IS Harry, just younger... and a bit forgetful... I'll explain better as I go along I'm sure...**

**Alicia: Don't worry. The whole Bill/Harry thing will mainly take place AFTER the whole Boy thing goes away. Cuz otherwise it would be just... uck... and wierd... guh *shudders* so hopefully confusion will go byebye!  
**

**Love to all of my reviewers! You are very much appreaciated. God bless to you all!**

**Tata!**

**Tinks  
**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I don't own HP. Actually I have all seven books plus magical creatures and where to find them. I also have some brown sauce in my cuboard. Does that count?**

**Chapter Eight**

**Boy:Non  
**

The meeting had been going on for a few hours now. Voldemort wanted the plan perfect, and they were going to stay there until he approved it.

"There has to be a way of taking out the wards without a blast zone," he said staring at the blueprints and schematics scattered across the table.

"Then we'd have to recircuit the defenses and power and... everything! We'd need a trained warder for that, or at least thirty men," responded one of the men.

"We can't allow that. They'd be defenseless. We'd need to assign people to protect them. That's nearly ninety men gone already. We'd be sitting ducks, and they would probably trigger the wards themselves just to destroy us all!" came a voice from the end of the table. A frustrated silence fell upon the table.

"We could gain the ground and then slowly drain them until the wards were harmless?" someone threw in.

"No, the ground is hard to gain, and weak to defend. We don't have enough solid resources to do that," he grumbled.

"It would also take nearly a decade to drain those conductors, more maybe. That's too long..." muttered Voldemort. The discussions continued on in the same vain till Voldemort suddenly snapped his head up.

"I want everyone to ignore the next person to enter the room to the best of their ability. Understood?"

The Death Eaters all nodded and then looked to each other, raising eyebrows and exchanging frowns. Suddenly the doors were burst open and small boy stood with tears on his face. The Death Eaters all seemed frozen, staring at the child in shock. Suddenly a voice cleared.

"What about connecting the anchors to a conductor far away and rigging it so it was destroyed instead?"

The men all immediately turned back to plans on the table and the doors to the room swung shut. The child ran up the Voldemort and threw up his arms. Voldemort smoothly picked him up and swung him onto his hip. The kid tightened his arms around the Dark Lord, and he in return kissed his brow.

"The anchors are made to channel in a feedback loop. Interrupt the flow and boom," said someone.

"I'm telling you we need a warder!"

"And do you happen to _know_ any warders?" came the snide response.

"Well no, but -"

"I know a warder."

The voice was quiet and muffled. Everyone looked to Voldemort and Voldemort looked to the boy.

"Going to say that again for us?" he asked shoogling him a little. "I don't think the old folks at the back heard you," he said gently, ruffling the child's head.

The child lifted his head from the Dark Lord's chest.

"I know a warder. He's my friend from the prison."

Everyone saw how Voldemort froze.

"Your friend from... The prison?" he breathed.

"He taught me chess. Harry said that his little brother played chess and it sounded fun so I asked him to teach me."

Voldemort frowned.

"Harry told you that?" he asked quietly.

"Harry tells me lots of things!" said the tot loudly, beaming brightly.

"Well, what's your friend's name. Maybe he can come to dinner?"

"His name's Bill. Bill Weasley."

"Of course," Voldemort breathed. "The curse breaker."

"That's weird," said the boy snuggling his head into Voldemort's chest. "He called himself a curse breaker too. But it was obvious he wasn't."

"What do you mean obvious?"

The boy let out a yawn. "I could just tell..."

The boy's breathing dropped as he fell into a slumber. The Dark Lord's face was pensive.

"My Lord, -"

"Shh. Quiet," Voldemort said unconsciously rocking the boy in his arms. "He doesn't sleep very well."

The Dark Lord cast a spell and the boy glowed blue for a moment.

"There," he said normally. "He can't hear us."

He sat down gently, moving the boy to lie on his chest. The Death Eaters also took cue and sat.

"Apparently... My boy has made a new friend in the dungeons," he said. "Two new friends."

"Bill Weasley and... Harry?" dared a Death Eater.

"Yes. Bill Weasley. He's registered as a curse breaker, not a warder."

"He may not have sat the test. He's a Weasley so they may not have been financially capable..."

"But he is a Pureblood. It's perfectly possible that the trait occurred..."

"The question is, My Lord," addressed one Death Eater. "How does... your boy, know? How can he even make a guess? He seems fairly intelligent but a 'guess' this close to the mark?" The Death Eater leaned back. "Has _he_ been tested? For a sensor?"

Voldemort's eyes widened and he shook his head. "No. He can't be. That..." Voldemort broke off and shook his head. "Anyway. This man, Bill Weasley. Does he know he's a warder?"

"According to your boy he doesn't."

"Then he's untrained..."

"Only takes a year to train a warder. Most of it's instinctual, and with him being a curse breaker, he probably knows basic ward theory. He'll know runes, and arithmancy..."

"Best shot we have at getting what we want I would think..."

"Wait a minute," came a voice of reason. "The man is upstairs. We can simply go and see him."

The table was in agreement until;

"No."

The Death Eaters fell silent at their Lord's command.

"We would need him to be willing. To cooperate. If he knows he's important then he'll fight it, without fear of death. We need to turn him first. Then use him."

The table stayed silent.

"My Lord," came a favored Death Eater's voice. "May I speak freely, and ask you a question?"

Voldemort seemed completely enthralled in the boy's curly locks but soon spoke. "It's about my boy, isn't it?"

"Yes, My Lord."

"Then for the rest of the night I shall answer any questions you wish."

"Is the boy yours? Are you his... Father?"

"It's complicated. But, he is mine, by magic and by blood, yes. He's mine."

"What age is he?"

Voldemort smirked. "Also complicated. Right now? I think he is five or six. But other times he is sixteen. It changes," he lifted his eyes to the Death Eaters. "There is something wrong with him. He changes age. If any of you come across anything: books, stories... I would appreciate it."

"You say he doesn't sleep well?"

"No. He has nightmares."

"Tried hot milk?"

Voldemort looked startled. "Pardon?"

"Well. Me and my wife tried hot milk. It worked like a charm."

"Nah. My little brother had a nightlight..."

"... A music box while she slept..."

"We sang the monsters be banished song..."

Voldemort sat back and saw his brightest and bravest discuss childcare and children. He'd never realized how many _children_ were in his ranks.

"My Lord?" came a quiet voice. Ah, Severus. No children.

"Who's Harry? Is he... Harry Potter?" he asked in a low voice. Voldemort glanced to his other followers still rambling on about kids.

"Yes. Yes he is. This is to be kept as quiet as possible. Understood?"

"Of course my Lord. How long...?"

"Almost two months now."

"He is not dead?"

"No," Voldemort said lightly. Severus nodded his head at the boy.

"What about the boy's mother? Is she still alive?"

The men around the table were beginning to listen in again, but conversations were flourishing.

"His mother is dead. I killed her - and her husband."

The table seemed slightly shocked.

"Does... Does he know that?"

"What do you think his nightmares are about?" he asked softly. "I prefer him when he's like this. A child. When he's a teenager..." Voldemort shook his head. "How's your potion brew coming?"

"It's going well. The potion's stable, and now I know who it's for... My Lord, which age do you wish to trap him in?"

"His true age. Turning into a five year old... It was like a defense mechanism. He's a true child. With the silly behavior, inquisitive... But he remembers his teenage self. It seems far away so he doesn't bother with it. And you know children. Their resilience and trust is... Commendable. But he is not suppose to be like this."

The Dark Lord shook his head and stood, cradling the boy. "I should tuck him back in," he said. "I trust you can find your own way out?"

The Death Eaters nodded and he left the room.

"Uh... Guys? Did anyone get the kid's name?"

********

Voldemort and Severus had been talking for a near hour when a scream ran through the halls and then stopped abruptly. Voldemort's face flashed with an emotion Severus had never seen before. He swept out the room as fast as lightning, Severus had to jog to keep up. They came to a corridor where a teenaged boy lay in pain on the stairs. Sverus stood back. This must be the teenaged version of Boy.

"What happened?" Voldemort demanded as he knelt down next to him and began to heal him.

"Boy left something on his hands, slipped, fell. I phased before I hit the ground," the teenager gasped out.

"Stupid boy," Voldemort muttered moving the knee in towards the teenager's chest and away. "I'll need to punish Boy later."

"Why?"

"For doing something silly."

"I've done it a thousand times before. It was just a mistake. It won't happen again."

"Really? How so?"

"As it so happens, I tend to learn from my mistakes," he growled back.

"Yes, but you are not Boy -"

"Yes I am," he hissed. "Boy and I are the same person. We don't split, or switch. He's not some secretly suppressed part of me, I'm not a schizophrenic, or have any other type of personality disorder. Boy is me, just younger."

Voldemort was silent for a few moments.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?"

The teenager begrudgingly held out his arm. Voldemort quickly healed him and stood.

"No swinging above thirty feet. I'm not having you die because you had jam on your fingers, understood?"

Severus finally got the chance to see the teenager turn into Boy. It was horrific, but didn't seem to affect the boy any way.

"I'm sorry! I'll be good! Promise!" the child said exuberantly.

"Alright," said Voldemort smiling at him. Voldemort then turned to Severus. "I think we were done."

"Yes, my Lord," Severus said with a bow. Voldemort nodded back and strode off leaving Boy and Severus alone. Severus glanced up at Boy.

"Are you alright? You fell from very high up," Severus said trying to spark a conversation.

"Oh, I'm fine. Daddy always heals me good. Who're you?"

"I'm Severus Snape," he said with a little flourished bow. Boy laughed and clapped his hands.

"Are you the Snape from Hogwarts? A professor?" Boy suddenly gasped.

"Yes I am," Snape said with a smile.

"You have to tell me everything about it! I wanna hear stories about the ghosts and the staircases and how they move and the secret passageways! Oh, and the special ceiling! Please!"

Severus chuckled. "Of course," Severus said coming to sit down next to him on the stairs. "Where do you want to start?"

Severus easily spent an hour that first afternoon talking about Hogwarts. He was relieved that he had managed to strike up a friendship with the boy. It was going to be useful to him in the future. Very useful.

**Dundundun. Lol, this was one of the first chappies I ever wrote - the first bit. The second bit was for that person, I'll just go look who... CatWriter!**

**Voldemort is not Harry Dada now. That's just what Boy calls him/ sees him as. Otherwise some of the scenes are going to get disturbing. Just enough to be like... cousins. So if anyone did a blood test he'd be related. And Voldemort never actually says he's his father... Just that Harry is his...**

**As for the Bill fiends, lookie lookie! Aren't I lovely. Now Bill is intrinsic to the plot! But how? O_o Nobody knows... I might update again to day... See how I feel... I think there was something important I wanted to wirte down but I forgot... Hmmm... ah well... If you liked this, go see my other stories. They're fun tooo!!! Honest....**

**God bless**

**Tata!**

**Tinks  
**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I like big buts and I cannot lie you otha bruthas can't deni - I like Shrek. I don't own HP. Sorry.  
**

**Chapter Eight**

**Boy:Non**

Bill and Boy (**A/N Bill and Ben the flower pot men. Whoops, totally broke the mood there, I'll start again.**)

Bill and Boy were up late. Bill could tell that Boy was tired, but Boy had decided that he wasn't going anywhere. He was winning.

"Your go," he said stifling a yawn. Bill smiled slightly. He took an especially long time deciding and when he looked up he saw Boy had fallen asleep against the wall. Bill shook his head and watched the tyke sleep. Bill wasn't very much tired.

Boy suddenly slumped and fell sideways down. Bill automatically moved to catch him, but the shackle brought him up short. Luckily a large pillow materialized for Boy to land on, and the child slept on none the wiser.

It was probably about an hour later when Boy started to toss and turn. Bill frowned and was wondering whether he should wake him or not when Boy suddenly changed into a teenager. Bill had never seen something so unnatural before in his life. He stared at the sleeping figure slack jawed for a good few minutes. The teenager still_ looked_ like Boy. Mask, hair, and so on. He was also still turning in his sleep.

Suddenly he screamed and bolted upright and awake, breathing hard, his hand out as if to stop a blow.

"You were having a nightmare," Bill said gently.

"I fell asleep?"

Bill nodded and continued to stare.

"Why are you -" Harry cut himself off and grimaced. "You've never seen me grown up before."

It was more of a statement than a question, but Bill answered anyway.

"No, I've not."

"Any exciting or original questions you want to ask?"

"How -"

"Voldemort was doing a... potions experiment. It exploded, enter child."

"So you're suppose to be a teenager?"

Harry nodded, sitting himself upright.

"Do I still call you Boy when you're like this?"

Harry shrugged. "I s'pose so."

"So... How do you, um, change?"

"When my thought process gets into child like mentality or adult mentality I'll change to that. Or an adrenilin rush, falling, danger. Stuff like that."

"Oh. Okay."

Bill sat in silence for a few moments.

"Any more questions?"

"Any good at chess?"

*******

**The teenager reached out and moved his bishop. The sleeve slipped back slightly and Bill suddenly caught his hand.**

**"Where did you get these?"**

**Bill said running his thumb over the large scabbing cuts that ran over Harry's hands and wrists. He grimaced.**

**"Nowhere Bill. Let's just play."**

**"Boy," he growled.**

**"Voldemort suspends me from these belt things by my wrists."**

**"Why?"**

**"Hurts more. I dunno. Makes for an interesting whipping though."**

**"Boy..."**

**"What?" he snapped.**

**"You're stronger than I am. I couldn't... Survive what you do. I barely get touched here, and you're tortured nearly every other day. Just... Hang in there I guess."**

**"Hanging was exactly the point, funnily enough."**

**"I didn't mean -"**

**"Your go, Bill."**

*******

Harry shot awake. He looked around the room warily. Something was off. Wrong. Different.

He tried to shake the feeling off as he got dressed. He decided to wander off and visit Bill.

"Hey, not seen you in a while."

Harry paused slightly at the greeting.

"Really? How long?"

Bill shrugged. "Eight meals I think."

Right meals... And the prisoners were fed every nineteen hours, just to throw them off balance. So that was... Six days. But Harry remembered seeing Bill yesterday...

"Bastard," Harry muttered turning.

"What -"

"Never mind. I'll see you later."

Harry walked down to Voldemort's private study and bashed on the door.

"Yes?"

Harry stepped through the door.

"What?"

"I've lost six days."

"That's about right, yes."

"What were -"

"Removing your scar."

Harry was slightly taken aback. He didn't know it could be removed.

"Then I marked your face."

Harry choked.

"Excuse me?"

"Put it on the same side as your scar used to be. You'll still feel the effects of your scar so it's a good way to cover it."

Harry was caught between his blood turning cold, and boiling hot.

"I underestimated you," Harry said quietly. "I'm probably going to do something stupid next time we meet. I'm leaving now."

Harry went to dinner. He did something stupid. He spent the night in the attic room.

**Hey, what is up with that middle bit? I could not for the life of me get it unbolded. That is a word. If I knwo what it means and I can spell it, it's a word. Anyway NanoWrimo is this month so not alot of plot/effort here. Just realised Bill didn't know that Boy wasn't a boy but a teenager and we screwed around with Harry somemore. Isn't that fun...**

**Right, some questions about what's happening at the Order. I shall tell you something very important. Are you listening? Good. Now: You don't know anything Harry doesn't know. Harry doesn't know what is happening with the Order, therefore you can safely assume you don't know what's happening with the order. Not just because I don't know, but because Harry doesn't know. You may send in theories (helps with my making up the story thing) and queeries.**

**Dracosbaby08: The threat is still looming, however Voldie is creeped out by the idea that Boy can shift from teenager to child at any given moment. He doesn't like children. Reason why he gave trigger potion. But there will soon be another reason why Voldie will not use that punishment...**

**bananacupcakes  
Ireth Aldarion  
Lacy  
CatWriter  
Emriel  
celestialuna  
prongster  
dracosbaby08  
George2Bob1**

**Lots of luv to them ^ Huggles to you all. God Bless**

**Tata!**

**Tinks  
**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **

**The following disclaimer does not belong to me:**

**Strangely enough, since the last chapter I have not acquired the ownership of Harry Potter.**

**Chapter Nine**

**Non**

"Come with me," Voldemort said rising from his dinner place. Harry followed obediently behind until Voldemort came to a large room.

"I want you to practice your magic in here. Wandlessly."

"But I'm -"

"Particularly gifted at it. It's a branch of magic few ever learn. It's a sign of power."

"Okay... How do I -"

"I have a few books in here," Voldemort said gesturing to the table. "But most of it is instinctual. Just... Believe I suppose."

"Believe," Harry muttered.

"Tell the House to raise that book," Voldemort said offhandedly. Harry frowned but did it anyway.

"_Rise_," he hissed. The book lifted up into the air shakily.

"Move it around the room."

Harry rolled his eyes but did it anyway. "_Move_."

Voldemort spent the next fifteen minutes telling Harry to summon, lift and move objects. Suddenly Harry was exhausted.

"Why am I so tired?" he near panted, sweat starting to for on his brow.

"I don't know," Voldemort said rising from the throne he had Harry summon and headed for the door. "It might be something to do with the fact I warded this room so that you can't draw House magic from within it and you've just spent fifteen minutes doing extensive wandless magic, but I wouldn't trust me... I'm a liar."

Harry stood gobsmacked in the middle of the room as he watched Voldemort leave. A cross between disbelief in what he himself had done, and how insane Voldemort was.

He did have a point however...

*******

Harry was in the library studying. He frowned and put the book he was studying down onto the table in front of him. He started as he felt Voldemort's fingers plunge into the back of his hair but soon relaxed into the touch automatically. Suddenly he tensed. He wasn't suppose to find Voldemort's touch relaxing, in fact nearly every time Voldemort touched him he hurt him.

"Hard at work?" Voldemort asked lightly.

"I suppose so," Harry answered cautiously.

"What on?" he asked running Harry's hair through his hands.

"Ancient runes," Harry said shifting.

"Something the matter?" asked Voldemort picking up on the shift.

Harry hesitated. Answering was dangerous, but so was not answering...

"I don't like you touching me, is all," he said hoping Voldemort would just ignore it.

"Oh," he said into Harry's ear. "Oh really?"

Voldemort swung Harry's chair round forcibly so that they were facing. Harry immediately looked down so he wouldn't have to face him, but Voldemort simply crouched down.

"Look at me, boy," he said gently. Harry slowly moved his eyes over. Voldemort ran his hands over Harry's knees.

"You see, boy," he continued, sliding his hands up Harry's thighs as he talked. "I think you're lying. I think that you do enjoy my touch, my _affection_," he said, leering at him and straddling him as he reached as far up as he could go. Harry gasped involuntary as he felt his body react to Voldemort's hands. Voldemort smirked and ran a finger over his arousal. "Admit it, boy," he said cruelly, bringing a hand up to Harry's face as the other continued to stroke him. "Tell me... You appreciate my affections. My touch," he said digging his nails into the side of Harry's face. Tears ran freely down Harry's cheeks as he choked out an answer.

"Yes," he wept. Voldemort placed his hands on both sides of Harry's face.

"Don't lie to me, understood?"

Harry nodded his head and Voldemort swung off him.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Good night."

Harry wiped his face after Voldemort. Then froze. His tears, they were on top of the mask.

Fear flooded his system as he tried to remember the last time he had taken the mask off. It had been weeks maybe...

Harry ran full pelt to his room, still the only place he could take his mask off. His hands went up to find the edge of the mask, but he couldn't find the seam. His nails ran over his face, cutting viciously at his half-skin-half-mask meld.

It wouldn't come off. The mask would not come off.

Harry felt his insides churn at the thought of never seeing his face again - not that he would recognized it anyway, with the rituals Voldemort had done.

No. There had to be a way to fix this. Reverse it. Voldemort probably did it on purpose, just to freak him out.

Harry tried to calm himself down and sat on his bed.

He woke up the next morning not quite remembering when he had fallen asleep. He jumped up and ran to the Dining room where Voldemort was having breakfast.

Voldemort paused slightly when Harry burst through the doors, but continued on eating anyway.

"The mask won't come off. What did you do?" Harry rushed out.

"A little experiment**.** I imagine you _could_ take it off, but your skin fibers and the mask fibers have combined into one. It would literally be like tearing your face off. Quite nasty. Painful too."

Harry stood enraged by Voldemort's can-do attitude towards his abuse against him, but he supposed he not ought to be surprised, after last night.

"The mask... It's like my skin now?" he asked slowly.

"Basically, yes."

"I'll never see my face again?" he nearly whispered.

"Every curse has a reversal," Voldemort said lightly in response. Harry snorted.

"And you're going to tell me it? Perform it yourself?"

"Hmm. Maybe later. Hungry?" Voldemort asked nonchalantly.

Harry suddenly found himself absolutely famished and slunk down into a chair.

"It's rather odd having you for breakfast," Voldemort commented. "I'm used to Boy, but that's different."

"You ought to come up with a different name for me. It's hard trying to figure out who you're talking about or to," Harry muttered.

"I'll think about it," he said stiffly.

"Or would giving me a name be detrimental to my dehumanization?"

Voldemort smirked. "So you've caught onto that have you?"

Harry stared dully into his cereal which had appeared.

"How did you sleep?" Voldemort asked.

"Like a log. Having an emotional breakdown before bedtime makes for a good snooze."

***

Bill eyed him warily. He had been quiet since he came up, and not the thoughtful patient kind of quiet you'd expect in a chess match. The silence was a building silence that could go off at the drop a hat. A troubled quiet, hateful quiet.

"Your turn," Bill said gently. His eyes snapped up to him and his foot lashed out, kicking the board across the small cell, the pieces flying through the bars.

"What's wrong?" Bill sighed. He laughed bitterly and slid over at high speed so he was right next to Bill.

"Run your hand along the edge of the mask," he nearly spat. Bill tentatively raised his hand and traced the edge. It was completely smooth. Bill frowned then closed his eyes and continued to run his hands along his face, trying to find the difference between mask and skin.

"Can't find it can you," he choked out. Bill's eyes flew open. They were sitting close to each other. Very close. His hand resting against Boy's cheek. Bill suddenly wondered if the mask joined to his skin ran just as smoothly over his lips.

Boy suddenly moved back to the other side of the cell.

"What," Bill said slowly. "What else has he done to you?"

He moved so fast Bill didn't realized it until he smacked Bill's head against the wall.

"What hasn't he done," the teen snarled in his ear, pushing him against the wall and straddling him. Bill automatically placed a hand on the teen's hips to try and keep some semblance of control. "He's abducted me, orphaned me, molested me, tortured me, spun my memories out for him to watch at his pleasure, experimented on me, screwed with my head, kept me unconscious for days, toyed with my mind, mutated my body, my magic. Tell me Bill," he said nearing close to tears now. "What hasn't he done?"

"Boy..." Bill said with sympathy. Suddenly he laughed again.

"Quite right Bill," he said standing up. Bill was oddly disappointed at the loss of contact. "He's taken away my name too. He's ripping my entire identity apart, piece by piece," he said slumping down on the bars adjacent to Bill. Bill wished he could go over and comfort him but the shackle... Bill looked at his wrist and paused. The shackle was gone. He decided not to contemplate it and instead moved to where teenaged boy was. Bill reached out and cupped his chin bringing his face up. Tears were welling in his eyes. Bill found himself leaning in, their lips nearly brushing.

"Don't," he suddenly whispered. Bill froze. "I can't. He would... I mean. Not... Please."

Bill could hear the pleading in his voice and slowly brought them apart. Bill turned himself so that they were sitting side by side, and wrapped his arm around the teen instead. Bill gently rocked him as he wept silently in his arms.

"I might as well be in this cell with you," he whispered. "For all the good I can do."

"You're cell's just a little bit bigger than mine. Don't beat yourself up about it."

"You could get out of here," he whispered. "I could..."

"Could...?"

"If you were willing to take the Dark Mark. He would let you leave. Go live your life..."

"Just be a bigger cell really."

"Would it? I mean, you have a family out there. A real one, with brothers and a sister and a mother and father. I would take it. To have my parents back, I would take it," he said quietly.

"That's because yours are gone. I know mine are out there. I don't have to fight for them back."

"I suppose," he said gently. "I wish... I wish everything was different."

"Me too," Bill said kissing his forehead. "Me too."

**Lookie I updated!!! Don't you love me? Anyhoo...**

**So time just goes as it goes in the fanfic, it could be weeks or months or whatever gone by. I dunno. Neither does Harry either, just cause.**

**So it's been a little while, was in a show, very exciting. And stuff...  
**

**Lacy, remember Harry doesn't look like Harry no more, and we don't really know for how long he's been like that either. It might have been the first thing Voldemort done, and he was just lying about only doing it recently, and all sorts of intelligent reasons why Billie doesn't recognise him.  
**

**And to the rest of you, Meany, Cat in a box, brightsun89, Celestaluna, George2Bob1, Luv Dougie, thanks for reviewing!!!**

**Tata!**

**Tinks  
**


	11. Chapter 11

Hi everyone.

So I'm going to stop writing fanfiction.

I'm sorry to let you guys down and I'll try to explain my self a little bit here.

The way this fanfic is going, it's going to get very gritty and mature. This may or may not surprise you but I'm a Christian. I'm a follower of Jesus Christ and I'm trying to live i harmony with his teachings and I can't twist this fanfiction into something that will glorify his name so I'm going to stop it. I love the Lord and I can't hurt him by writing or imagining these kind of things and still call myself a Christian because that would be hypocritical of me. I want Jesus to wash me from the inside out and heal my soul. This is part of the healing so...

I'm going to post everything I've written.

I'm going to fill in the blanks between like a giant synopsis.

I'm going to do this with some of my other stories but others will need to be put up for adoption.

God bless

Bethany

If you want to know anything more feel free to contact me.


	12. Chapter 12

Okay, for all you poeple who skim read, this is a personal decision. I'm not putting up for adoption. I just don't like my mind wandering to rape and stuff like that. I've prayed about it and the decision is made. Okay.

Now from here on in reviews become VERY important. **If you want to complain, do it on chapter 11 please**, but from here on in **I need you to tell me when I miss things out** and what you **think should happen next.**(cause I don't know what happens next sometimes) Tell me when I forget to mention how the story got where it is or when you're confused. Help me fill in the blanks. I'm going to have to do these in different chapters because of work and stuff so... Here we go.

Don't own HP

**Chapter... Whatever...**

**I'll put these bits in bold.**

**Meet Rold. He's a phycopathic paedophile Death Eater Person.  
**

"Hey, what are you doing out here by yourself?"

"Nothing," Boy mumbled sulkily.

"Aww, tell me what's the matter?" said the large Death Eater crouching down beside him.

"Nothing," he mumbled again.

"I'm sure it's not nothing," the man said reaching out to stroke his face. Boy frowned and stepped back, uncomfortable, but the man already had a tight grip on the his shoulder.

Harry suddenly fazed into his teenaged self and sneered.

"Sorry, I seem to be a bit out of your... Range," he spat.

The Death Eater bounced back from the suddenly change quickly.

"I don't really have a range, just special cases..."

"As long as it screams and it's helpless?" he spat. "Sorry to disappoint, again, but I'm not helpless," he said pushing past. "And I don't scream."

The Death Eater caught his wrist. "They all scream eventually... boy," he said with steady eyes. He smirked then let go, walking off. Harry took a shaky breath in and went to the meeting room. Voldemort raised an eyebrow at him but didn't say anything, and the Death Eaters had gotten used to ignoring his presence.

**I'm sure there was more to this scene. Ah well.**

**On the off note...**

**Lucius was in prison at the end of the fifth book. He was here too. He has been recused/escaped from Azcaban. **

**Boy realises that he hasn't had a birthday yet and gets upset at Voldemort (aww!) so Voldemort gives him a slice of cake and a roller blades the next day. With a helmet. Gotta remember the oober protectiveness.  
**

**Boy still gets Harry into trouble and so on and so forth. Voldemort still tortures him in his torture room in attic and Harry and Bill are buddies. Rold continues to pop up in places.  
**

***

"You should never sit."

Draco looked up at a boy his age wearing a mask approaching him. "It makes you look vulnerable."

He stopped infront of him and put his hand out, Draco grasped it. "You should also never look bored, otherwise... People will know that you won't be missed," he said pulling him up. "Always stand alert and ready."

The teenager eyed him up and down. "Understand?"

"Who are you -"

The masked boy was suddenly pressed right up against him, keeping their mouths apart with only a finger held up to Draco's lips. Draco felt his breath hitch in his throat.

"You don't get to talk," the boy whispered. He stepped back slowly.

"Pardon -"

"Sh," the boy dismissing his question, waving a hand. Draco felt his voice die magically in his throat.

The teen started to circle him slowly. "You'll be Lucius' boy, then. Unless there's someone else out there with those arrogant features," he said taking in Draco's face. Draco felt unnerved, not knowing who he was with, or what he should do.

"Got a bit of the Black in you too. You look a lot like your cousins."

He stopped. "Shame you never got to meet them..." he shook his head and grinned. "Anyway. Your Paw's inside, innit he?" he said shifting over to the door.

"Yes." Draco said finding his voice returned to him. "He and the Dark Lord are discussing..."

The boy raised his eyebrow in anticipation.

"Well?"

Draco stayed silent.

"If it's not important then..." he said smirking. Draco's eyes widened as he realized what he was about to do. The boy raised his leg and kicked the door wide open.

"Boy!" came an angry shout.

"Your stupid rules, don't yell at me," the boy grumbled coming into the room. Draco tentatively moved into the doorway.

"Time already?" he asked frowning.

"Not far off, but..." the boy shifted. "I'm injured."

Lucius gestured for Draco to enter the room and close the door. He came and stood near his father across the table from the Dark Lord and the boy.

The Dark Lord had maneuvered the boy to lean against the table and had taken off the boy's shirt. Draco stifled a gasp as he saw the raw red burns going across half his back, arm and probably front. There were cuts and bruises littering his back as well - some still bleeding.

The Dark Lord stepped up very close to the teenager - pressing his legs against the boy's lower body so he couldn't move away.

"What were you doing?" he asked, his voice was filled with anger.

The teenager looked away blatantly and didn't answer. Draco immediately feared for the boy and what would come.

The Dark Lord lifted one of his long slender fingers to the boy's cheek.

"Look at me when I address you," he said deathly quiet.

The teenager slowly allowed Voldemort to move his face round. The tension in the room escalated and Draco soon dared not breathe. He had a feeling in the pit of his stomach that perhaps the teenager shouldn't be allowed so close to the Dark Lord. Infact, there were standing particularly close. Touching. The Dark Lord was pressing himself against the boy. There seemed to be no boundary for the Dark Lord - he invaded the boy's personal space without even a second thought. A possession then perhaps...

"What were you doing?" he asked again.

"Boy wanted to see the dragons," he said quietly, pleading. "You know how we are, I didn't realize until -"

"Until you had to defend yourself against a deadly foe," he snarled. He grabbed the boy's shoulder to inspect it, the boy cried out and sagged. As if the only thing now holding him up was the applied pressure between the Dark Lord and the table.

The Dark Lord finished his assessment of the shoulder, he gripped the boy's waist. Definitely a possession then. The boy seemed uncomfortable, but not unused to how close the Dark Lord was.

"This goes further down," he said tapping the boy's waistband.

"No."

The whisper was ignored as the Dark Lord unbuckled the trousers and let them drop. "It goes all the way down you leg," he muttered. "Your capacity for pain is amazing."

"_Sssessssasssse,_" the boy hissed out in an angry tone.

The Dark Lord gave a hissed response which seemed to shut the boy up.

There was a knock at the door.

"My Lord, it's Rold. I have a letter for you," he said through the door.

Lucius automatically grabbed Draco and brought him directly to his side before the man came in and started to approach Voldemort.

"Here it -"

Suddenly the boy snapped his fingers and pointed over the table. "Other side."

Rold seamlessly jumped over to the other side of the table where Lucius and Draco stood.

"Is, My Lord," he said handing over the letter. Voldemort immediately took it and read.

"What are you doing out?" Rold asked the teenager.

"What do you mean 'what am I doing out'?" the boy asked incredulously.

"I didn't think you fazed for another half hour. I expected to see little baby Boy."

"You know my shifts?"

The teenager had become tense and the question was small, in shock, in fear.

"Course I do, baby. I know almost all there is to know. I'm guessing you shifted because of an adrenaline rush? A dangerous situation?" he said softly, looking him directly in the eyes. "And with those burns... Were you looking at the dragons, Boy?"

"Stop it," he whispered. Rold gave a wicked smile to the teenager then focused on his Lord.

"Is that all, My Lord?"

"Yes," he said placing the letter on the table. Rold bowed and left smirking.

"Now, hold still," said the Dark Lord.

"He knows my shifts. He's been watching me - stalking me," he said quietly to Voldemort.

"He's no danger -"

"He's a psychopathic, sadistic, paedophile! Younger me's terrified of him, so much so, that I'm terrified of him. That's not normal," he said.

"This will be painful. Hold onto my arm. Brace yourself."

The boy took hold of Voldemort as he cast the spell.

Lucius jerked when he heard it. It was the fastest and most effective spell there was for burns. Also the most painful. It was for the face - or an area so small the pain would be brief, but for that big a space, for that amount of time... It would be like getting burnt all over again.

Soon the spell was over and the boy's screaming had stopped. He was now sobbing into the Dark Lord.

"Shhh," the Dark Lord comforted. He raised a hand, already cradling the boy with the other, and ran it down the boy's side. The boy shivered and shoved him off.

"Stop screwing with my head!" he screamed.

Voldemort's eyes flashed darkly and he flicked his wand. Lucius heaved a sigh.

"Silencing barrier," he said.

Harry let his anger take over and pushed past his pain. He immediately grabbed his trousers and pulled them back on.

"What _do_ you mean?" asked Voldemort darkly.

"Acting like a father to Boy then making advances on me and implying things! You know it screws with my mind! My perceptions are all over the place as it is! I refuse to let you break me!"

"You... Refuse?"

Harry's brain caught up with his mouth too late and he felt invisible arms pull him in, gluing his arms to the wall. Harry started to struggle but Voldemort pressed himself over half his body and started whispering in his ear.

"I will play as many little games as I want," he said as his hand played around in Harry's hair. "Destroy as much as I want of your mind because of one simple fact," he leaned right into Harry's ear, his finger pressing on Harry's temple. "Your mind _belongs to me_."

Harry tried to control his breathing as the Dark Lord's hand trailed down his face, tracing the outline of his mouth. "Your lips..."

His hand moved down Harry's neck until his hand was spread over his left breast.

"Your heart..."

The hand became a finger traveled to the center of his torso.

"Your magic..."

His finger trailed down to Harry's waistband, over his penis and gripped his upper thigh.

"Your virginity..." Harry winced and turned his face away. "They are all _mine_. They all _belong to me_. And I will have it if I want."

He reached up and grabbed Harry face. "Look at me." Harry lifted his eyes. "Say it," he hissed.

"They belong to you," he choked out, nearing tears, sick to his stomach.

"What does, boy?"

Harry took a deep shuddering breath.

"Me. I belong to you."

Voldemort smirked and kissed the corner of his mouth.

"Good boy, good boy," he murmured, patting him on the cheek and stepping back. The magic keeping Harry attached to the wall dissolved and he could breath easily again, slumping to the floor.

Voldemort took down the silencing barrier and smiled.

"I assume you and yours are staying for dinner. We still have some things to discuss and it is getting to be quite late," he said tossing the shirt on the table backwards to Harry.

"Thank you for your generosity, My Lord," Lucius said slowly. "We'd be happy to accept."

Harry shoved on the shirt and stood against the wall. Voldemort smiled at Lucius and clapped his hands. The table was immediately set for four, with Voldemort at the top and the teenagers nearer the bottom. They all took their seats and food soon arrived.

Draco observed the boy as he took a drink. He was rather attractive he supposed. Dark curlyish hair, blue eyes. Then again he could have been hideous underneath that mask of his.

"So what's your name, anyway?" Draco asked trying to spark a conversation.

"Boy."

"Boy?" Draco asked with skepticism.

"That's what he picked."

Draco shook his head.

"I'm Draco."

"I know," Boy replied. "I don't talk to people unless I know exactly who they are."

"Smart move. How did you know me?"

"Your father talks about you," he said shrugging.

"What does he say?" Draco asked slightly intrigued.

"That you're a fine gentleman, blah blah. I don't really listen."

There was a small silence.

"Are there really dragons downstairs?" Draco asked quietly. Boy grinned and nodded.

"They're amazing and beautiful. Oh you should see them. They're huge! And fierce as well!" he gushed suddenly. His eyes seemed to light up - and then he changed. It looked so unnatural. And a child sat in his place.

"There was this green one with huge spikes coming down its spine! And another one which was so dark it was nearly black! It was small but it was real quick and I think it was the scariest! Another one was red and orange and yellow and gold! Like a fiery rainbow, it looked so cool! The flames that came from that one were spectacular..."

Draco listened to the boy talk about all the dragons - demonstrating how they moved with his food and cutlery as the situation demanded. Draco slowly found himself becoming attached to him. He was so cute! But uh... He was cute in a, um, manly and un-feminine way. Eventually Boy exhausted the subject of dragons, so Draco started to talk about what he knew, and also about the four dragons he had seen in his fourth year.

**Draco and baby Boy bond. All very cute.**

***

Harry sat outside against the wall beside the door. He stared out into the forest, imagining it burning, order members and aurors storming the manor, him running, keeping running, never stopping, never even looking back -

"Hey," came a soft voice, interrupted his fantasies.

"Draco," Harry said hoarsely. He automatically coughed, his very own voice irritating his throat, after being ripped to shreads, with the screaming he had done last night.

"Can I join you?"

"Sure," he rasped, shifting over slightly for him. Draco slid down next to him.

"How are you?"

"Sore."

"How come?"

"Having a madman torture you will do that to a person."

"W - why?" Draco asked paling slightly.

"I spat in his face. He... Got angry."

Draco hummed in understanding and then silence fell between them.

"How come you're here so much?" Harry asked suddenly.

"I come to see my father. He's on the run so he can't come home really. I visit whenever I can without the school noticing. Certain weekends can be spent in the village, so I use the floo to go home, then here and have dinner with him. Sometimes my mother is here aswell."

Harry nodded his head. So the school was open.

"Doesn't anyone ever notice, or ask?"

"I tell Severus whenever I plan to come here. No one else really cares enough to notice."

"Perhaps they know, and simply let you."

Draco snorted. "Unlikely."

"From what I've heard about Dumbledore, it sounds just about mad enough for him to do."

Draco smirked. "Perhaps." Draco shivered slightly. "Lets get inside. They'll probably have finished by now."

Harry and Draco stood up and made their way inside.

"I wonder what it's like."

"What?"

"Being at Hogwart's."

"It's like being at home."

Harry smiled sadly. "I don't have a home. Not anymore."

"What..." Draco hesitated. "What really went down? Between your parents and Voldemort or whatever?" he asked in a hushed conspiratorial tone. Harry chuckled darkly.

"Maybe one day I'll tell you, Draco. But not today."

**And Draco and elder Boy bond. All very cute.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Okay. Again.**

**Don't own HP**

**Chapter:**

**Harry and Voldemort have a fight infront of some Death Eaters and Voldemort 'sends' him up to his attic room. Death Eater meeting is going on and...  
**

"Hello, boy."

Harry blearily opened his eyes to the speaker. Rold.

Fear seemed to paralyze Harry as he unlocked the door and stepped into Harry's cell.

"Look at you, baby," he said coming over to him. "All chained up like that. I bet it's impossible to move," he said kneeling down and breathing on Harry's face. Harry turned his face away, trying to keep his fazing under control. Rold started to rub Harry's thigh. Harry gasped, then tried to block the feeling out.

"You make such pretty noises, boy. Don't try and fight it, just let me..."

Rold started run his hands all over Harry's body, clumsily ripping the clothes off him. Harry lost his control and fazed into Boy. Rold smirked.

"Hello baby boy."

He curled up into a ball and whimpered. "Go away," he pleaded. "Stop."

Harry woke from the dream, crying out. He got out of bed and walked around trying to get his breathing under control. He was so tired. He slumped to the ground exhausted, sobbing as he remembered.

Rold hadn't stop. He'd kept going. Harry had fazed every other minute. There was pain. So much pain. Rold had rechained him to the floor. He had struggled with all his might, and then Rold had... He had...

Then Voldemort appeared and had blasted Rold straight off him. Then took him to the downstairs dungeons. Voldemort then let all the Death Eaters with children come help him rip the man apart, into little pieces, alive.

Voldemort had said he could hear Harry scream out in his mind. He had then come. He had healed him cleaned him, and gotten him counseling.

The counseling wasn't much needed for him, he only had nightmares, and he was prone to nightmares in this place - in any place. It was Boy who needed it. Harry remembered being raped as Boy. The perception made it seem like years ago. He was over it, but Boy...

He was making progress, he supposed. He didn't hide behind Voldemort when someone entered a room, or was scared of them, but Voldemort said soon it wasn't going to matter. Soon, he'll be fixed back to the way he was. A teenager.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"About what?"

"About Rold."

Harry froze. "I did."

"When?"

"All the time. Every opertunity."

"You didn't make it clear enough."

"I did."

"You didn't make it clear what you thought his intentions are."

"I told you. A stalking, phycopathic, peodophile, were my exact words I believe."

"You should have made a bigger point of it."

Harry felt the fury boil up in him.

"You are not pinning my own rape onto me. If you're feeling guilty then I'm glad."

"I'm not."

"So you think you're blameless?"

"Indeed. Being mine should have been enough to keep all my servants away from you."

"You gave me the name Boy. Demeaning. You knew that. And the way you touched me. It was almost like a beacon, Voldemort. You were practically egging him on. You gave me no rights. Everyone knew where I would be. In that cage, chained to the wall. So I hope you feel guilty."

A minutes silence rang out across the table.

"We ought to get you a new name."

"Pardon?"

"I've been toying with Prince."

"What?"

"No objections then. Good. You are now Prince. I'll introduce you to the Death Eaters later."

"What?"

"Eat your dinner."

**Voldemort backs off with the more sexual attacks. Draco and Harry are still mates. As is Harry and Bill. **

**Voldemort discovers that the house wards have taken Harry as their own because he's a parceltongue - the house isn't alive - and Voldemort needs Harry to contribute to the ward set up when he wants to change anything. Harry stores this information away.  
**

**Voldemort works hard at getting Harry an antidote while Severus Snape sniffs around. Voldemort leaves things like Harry's glasses out and covered with Harry's blood - because he kept some unaltered Harry blood just incase - and implies Harry is dead. Severus helps Voldemort slightly on the potion to makes Harry Harry again.  
**

Severus stood at the door to the darkly lit study as the boy stepped up to Voldemort and took the vile.

"This will work?"

"I'm not sure."

Harry stepped back, shaking his head and staring at the vile in his hand.

"There was a time when you wouldn't have said that."

"Seems that being Boy has affected us both."

Harry nodded his head and uncorked the vile.

"Bottoms up."

He drained the vile in one go. He staggered suddenly, he reached out to steady himself on the wall. Gently he crumpled to his knees, a dizzy expression on his face.

"Something's wrong."

"What?" Voldemort asked frowning.

"I don't know."

"Well, Severus and I -"

"No. You don't understand. I don't know. Something is wrong with me."

Prince looked up at Voldemort with an indescribable look on his face.

"I look at you and I feel this hate, this anger, and I don't know... I don't remember."

A sudden calm came over him as he sat crossed legged on the floor. Realization.

"I don't remember... I don't remember my name. My real one. My mother's, my family... I don't..." Prince's eyes snapped up to Voldemort in rage. "What did you do! You bastard!" he screamed suddenly.

"Severus, leave, but stay in the manor," Voldemort said slowly. Severus quickly left the room, casting one last look at Prince.

"You don't remember your name?"

Prince shook his head.

"What do you remember? You remember me."

"I remember this place. I remember boy. I remember that I'm a horcrux. That conversation... It's the first thing I remember. That's a bit... Hazy."

Voldemort crouched down next to Prince and put a hand on his shoulder.

"I didn't know this would happen. But we need to figure out a few things, okay."

Prince shakily nodded his head.

"Can you faze?"

Prince shook his head.

"I think boy is gone."

"What do you feel towards me. You said you felt hatred?"

Prince nodded shakily, tears slowly trickling out.

"I feel hatred and anger and fear - but I don't know why. I understand it. In those early days you were particularly vicious, but..." Prince shook his head. "I don't know why. But I hate you. You've imprisoned me, tortured me, experimented me, and I think you murdered my parents. And that's just been recently. And whatever else you've done to me, just because I don't remember doesn't mean I won't continue to hate you for it," he said, getting some steel into his voice.

"I'm glad to see you've still got your spirit, boy. I always liked your backbone," Voldemort said with drawing.

"And breaking it."

Voldemort nodded. "Come have a drink."

Prince stood wearily. Voldemort handed him a glass of firewhiskey and sat behind his desk sized table.

"Sit."

Prince sat and took a sip of the alcohol. It burned his mouth. It felt good.

"I killed your parents. They loved you and protected you to the end. It's because of them you are alive today."

Prince nodded.

"I once said to you... That I was all I had left of my parents... Why did I say that?"

"You looked remarkable like your father. And your mother. Easily recognizable."

Prince nodded distantly. "I don't remember that face."

"Then... This is all you have. Why not -"

"No. I'm not letting you manipulate this. Just because I don't remember it doesn't make it... Doesn't mean it didn't happen."

"It would be a good opportunity to accept it. We've both been changed by Boy after all."

Prince sighed.

"I hate you. For this and more. I'm going to figure out who I am," Prince said standing to leave.

"Surely you mean, who you were." Voldemort's voice stopped his hand from opening the door. "Because I assure you, you are not the same teenager I took in all those months ago."

Prince felt anger bubble beneath the surface, even as tears fell from his eyes, and left.

Bill woke suddenly to Prince standing in a dark corner.

"Prince? What...?"

"Just checking that I remember you," he said grimly.

"What's happened?" he asked sitting up.

"Well, we've gotten rid of boy," he said snidely.

"That's a good thing, right?" he asked cautiously.

"Not at the cost," he said getting emotional. "He took my memories, Bill," he said sinking to the floor. "I don't remember anything. My mother's face, her name," tears rolled down his face. "_My_ name. Gone. Childhood, gone. Friends, gone. Schooldays, gone. All I remember is this place. Him. And being boy. It's screwing me up, Bill, badly."

Bill reached out as far as he could and pulled him in closer to him.

"All I can remember is how _good_ he was to me. How much fun I had as a kid. How he treated me well and let me play, but still disciplined me. Never unfair. I _know _I hate him, but I can't remember why," he sobbed. "My life is _gone_ Bill. No one from my old life would recognize me, and now I can't even recognize them."

Bill sat him by his side, his arm around the teenager's waist, letting Prince lean on him.

"Maybe I should just..."

"Just what?" Bill asked after a pause.

"Give in. Be who he wants me to be. Pretend my whole life has been here. Forget what I've forgotten."

"No. You can't, because he has still tortured you, and imprisoned you, and experimented on you, and destroyed your life bit By Bit. You still remember that, don't you?"

"I remember."

"Then you shouldn't ever give in. Don't forget what you've forgotten, Prince. For me. Please."

"It's screwing me up, Bill. Badly. I don't know how much longer I can..."

"As long as you can, Prince. I'll try and keep you right."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

* * *

"Hey," Prince glanced up from his book at the sound of a familiar voice. "Remember me?" Draco asked cheekily.

"You're the one I wanted beheaded, yes?" Prince remarked lightly.

"How you doing?" Draco asked leaning on the chair across from him.

"Apart from the fact I can't remember the majority of my life? Just dandy," he replied bitterly he said refocusing himself back onto the book.

"Harsh. Not anything from before...?"

"Nothing."

"Not even anything really important?"

Prince looked up at Draco's tone of voice.

"Like...?"

Draco shrugged as he began browsing the books.

"Like your first wand..." he said gently. "Your first broomstick flight..." he ran his fingers gently over the backs of the darkly bound books. "Your first pet..." he turned around to face him, resting himself on a desk. "Perhaps even... Your first kiss?"

Prince shook his head minutely.

"You don't remember your first kiss?" Draco asked. "Well, I think we have to fix that, don't you?" he said reaching out and pulling Prince close to him.

"Don't you?" Draco asked, his hands on Prince's waist. From here Prince could feel the slight tremor in Draco's fingertips, the tiny shake in his voice, the flecks of uncertainty in his eyes.

"I don't know," Prince said with a smirk. "I suppose so, but Draco," he said in a teasing voice, placing his arms around his neck. "Wherever am I going to find someone with skill in kissing," he brought himself closer in Draco's face.

"Well, perhaps I could be of some service."

"You know someone who'd be willing, then?"

"You could say that," he said a smile threatening to take over.

"Then you'd best get on it."

"Yes, my Prince," he said. He gently pulled Prince in those last few centimeters and kissed him. It started gently, perfectly, Draco keeping everything in check. Then Prince pushed more into it, it got deeper, clumsier, more passionate, tongues lashed together, Draco just keeping up instead of guiding. Prince moved his hands. One plunging into Draco's hair, the other moving to his outside thigh. Draco's hands moved gently inside his shirt. Skin on skin. Prince pulled out slowly. He could feel Draco panting against his cheek, and Prince knew he was breathing just as hard.

"Not bad," Prince said backing away from Draco properly and picking up his book from the other table. Draco looked a bit flushed.

"Yeah," he managed to reply with.

"Catch you again later then?" he said with a slightly smirk.

"You're a bit of a flirt, aren't you?"

"Maybe. I don't know. Can't remember, you see," he said nonchalantly. "We're just going to have to find out the hard way."

* * *

**Prince is presented to the Death Eaters and is going to all the meetings and is getting angsty. He starts having dreams and flashes of garbled memory come to him but they mean nothing to him really. Vodlemort gets him a journal (how cliche) and Prince starts to write down - in parceltongue what he can remember, draws faces, places. He's forgotten most spells but he uses wandless wordless magic anyway so he's like think-and-it-happens-magic-boy** **now.**

"Follow me," Voldemort said rising. Prince followed warily. They soon came to the dungeons.

"Why -"

"Quiet."

Voldemort stopped outside one of the cells in the huge Attic. He slid the door open and stepped inside, Prince in tow.

The prisoner was a middle aged man.

"_Shackle him to the floor,_" Voldemort hissed. Prince shifted slightly, but waved his hand. Thick shackles appeared around the man's wrists keeping him chained to the ground.

"_Conjure a whip._"

Prince felt dread rise up in him as he summoned a whip into his hand.

"_Whip him_."

"_Why?_"

"_Because I'm telling you to._"

Prince gritted his teeth and raised the whip and let it fall half heartedly upon the man's back.

"_That's not going to cut it, boy,_" Voldemort hissed. "_Again. Properly._"

Prince raised his arm again and tried once more. It was still flimsy.

"_Again_."

Prince raised his arm and Voldemort suddenly held his arm and wrist tightly. Voldemort then forcibly made Prince follow through. The man yelled out in pain.

"_Again. That way_."

The night seemed to last forever. It took up so much of Prince's energy. Physically and emotionally. Tears were streaming down his face and his arm burned with strain.

"We'll do this again. Regularly. Until you can do it as perfectly as I can," Voldemort said sWeeping out the room.

**So Voldemort is slowly turning Prince to the dark side of the force...**

Prince sat legs sprawled across the Victorian styled chair in an unimposing corner of Voldemort's war study. Prince observed Voldemort as he worked at his desk. He took another sip of the firewhiskey he liberated from the cabinet.

"I'm Harry Potter, amin't I?"

Voldemort lifted up his eyes.

"Do you even know who Harry Potter is?"

Prince tried not to scowl at the Verbal lash. "I simply find it odd that I talk about things I've learned from him, but I can't remember ever seeing him. And then I remember this game I used to play when I was younge -" Prince paused. "When I was boy," he corrected. "I am Harry Potter."

"Want a cookie?"

Prince rolled his and drawled sghtly. "I'm simply sharing what I've done with my day. What have you done?"

"Completed a plan on how to attack three of the British Isles."

Prince nodded. "Well then, we've both had productive days."

Silence settled into the room as Prince drank some more whiskey. Suddenly a thought occurred to him.

"I told you my name."

Voldemort put down his piece of paper and stared at him annoyed. Prince felt a slight stab. **Through the scar guys, Voldemort didn't just get out a sword and jabbed him.**

"I have a point," he snapped. "I'm not suppose to be able to say my name. I've tried it in the past. Are you immune to the rule somehow?"

"That's it? You interrupted me for that tidbit?"

"Wouldn't that mean that the rules a bit up for subjugation? I mean, always attend dinner? That makes no sense. When's dinner? Where? You must be enforcing the rules with your own perceptions. So when I tell you my name I'm not revealing myself to anyone. Dinner is when you say. And I can disobey you because you would never kill me and therefore it's not suicide."

Voldemort inclined his head slightly.

"Now all I have to do is find out what you define freedom as... Or release..."

Voldemort waved a hand and a plate of cookies appeared on the table next to him. Prince smirked at the silent praise.

"My Lord," came a knock at the door.

"In."

"My Lord," it was Lucius. "Bella's vault was almost infiltrated."

Voldemort's attention was suddenly completely on Lucius. He looked furious.

"Tell me exactly what is happening."

"Dumbledore's been using his order to try and press for a warrant into the vault for some time, but as it is on Goblin territory he had no real hope of getting it legally, but earlier today one of the Department heads signed off on it. Aurors were sent in and they were stopped by the Goblins, but they had the Ministry's permission and well they nearly sparked a new Goblin war. Forcing their way through the first defenses, however the maze trapped them. Eventually it became a hostage negotiation and the Goblins were given a hell of a lot of gold to go in and retrieve them. But the main target was the Malfoy vault, the Lestrange vault and Bella's secondary Black vault," Lucius took a deep breath. "Goblins have put Gringotts on hold for two days to repair the damage. Although rumour has it that the Goblins are deciding on what action to take in retaliation."

"Thank you, Lucius."

"My Lord," he said bowing and making to leave.

"Don't go. Sit. Be quiet."

Lucius started and turned to take a seat.

Prince wasn't sure how long the silence lasted. An hour maybe. However he knew Voldemort was thinking hard. He could feel it in his own head.

"Prince."

Prince lifted his head and raised an eyebrow.

"In fifteen minutes I want you to bring Bill Weasley into the black study. Make sure he's sitting."

Prince looked slightly afraid, and indignant, but nodded his head.

"Lucius."

Lucius sat up straighter.

"When does Draco next visit?"

Lucius paled minutely.

"On the weekend. Sunday."

"I have a task for him."

Lucius nodded. "Yes. My lord."

"For now, try and keep as up to date as possible on the Goblin's decisions."

Lucius rose and left the room.

"What do you need Bill for?" Prince said.

"He has worked with Goblins before. He understands them. He will help."

"And if he doesn't?"

Voldemort lifted his eyes to Prince's.

"What do I usually do to those who refuse me?"

"Please. Don't kill him. Please. I need him. Don't..."

Voldemort raised an eyebrow.

"Need?"

"He is the only other constant in my life besides you. He... Keeps me sane."

Voldemort took in his words then dismissed him. Prince shakily made his way to the Attic to retrieve Bill.

Prince entered the cell the usual way.

"Voldemort... Requires an audience with you," Prince said his voice dry, holding out his hand. Bill cautiously took it and Prince pulled him into the floor and through the walls till they were some sort of study. There was a giant chair with chains on it, and a large desk. The room seem dark.

"He told me to make you sit," Prince said quietly. Bill nodded detachedly. Prince pulled him over to the chair and gently strapped down his arms and legs. Bill watched Prince intently as he silently bound him. He could practically feel the anxiety coming from him.

"Bill... Promise me you won't... I mean... That you'll... That he won't..."

Prince looked lost as he stared at the floor vacantly.

"I couldn't... You're important, Bill," Prince said, managing to get out a coherent sentence. "And I -"

The door opened and Prince shot across the room, standing against the wall. Voldemort's eyes flickered up to Prince's.

"Leave, Prince."

"Why -"

"Boy," he hissed warningly. Prince near glared, but quickly changed to aloof and pushed himself off the wall.

"Try not to make a mess, will you? I happen to like this one."

"Trust you to grow attached to a Weasley," Voldemort muttered. Prince stalked out the room. Closing the door firmly behind him, then continued to pace for the next few hours. It was a long wait. His mark burned and he shot in the door.

"Waiting, were you?"

"Nothing else much to do," Prince said trying to brush off his concern. He could smell blood in the air.

"I'll have to see about that. Take him back, we're done," Voldemort said striding out.

Prince came to Bill side.

"What..."

"My legs," Bill replied through gritted teeth. Prince knelt down and rolled up the scruffy robe. Bill's legs were a mesh of bone and blood, beaten and crushed together.

"Damnit Bill," Prince whispered. "I'll... I'll see what I can do, but my wandless healing is weak -"

"Thank you, I'll be grateful for anything you do."

Prince concentrated hard. His healing spells weren't his most practiced, but he still practiced them. A snap or two later, the bone seemed to be set in one piece and melded together again. Prince summoned bandages for the destroyed skin, not wanting to chance his luck.

"What did he want?"

"Help to draft a letter to the Goblins."

"Did you -"

"Eventually. Yes."

Prince nodded his head as he continued to bandage.

"I was also offered the Dark Mark."

"And did you -"

"No. Not ever. I won't."

"You should."

"Pardon?"

"You'd be free and you'd be helping me. Everybody wins. You wouldn't be locked up here, fearing for your life, and we could use your knowledge and -"

"And I would never be able to face my family again. I'd disown myself. I'd probably kill myself. No Prince. I'm not going to become a Death Eater."

Prince nodded.

"Just... Think about it."

* * *

"And then I want you -"

Voldemort cut himself off mid sentence. Only one thing ever did that to him.

Prince.

Severus still wasn't sure how Voldemort always knew where he was, what the boy was doing. Maybe a variation of a survalience spell.

Voldemort suddenly left at top speed. Severus followed close behind. They were at the floo room. Voldemort blasted the door and summoned Prince to him, just as the fire turned green. He doused the fire and turned to Prince.

"What?" he said shrugging. "I just wanted to see if I could do it."

"I'll deal with you in a minute. Stay here."

Voldemort stepped out of the room and turned to Severus.

"I want you to come back tomorrow and -"

Voldemort turned around sharply and flew back into the room. He physically grabbed Prince out of the fireplace. This time there was a struggle.

"Let go of me!" Prince snarled as Voldemort held Prince's arm behind his back.

"That was almost clever, boy," Voldemort spat, throwing Prince into the wall. "Why do it now?"

"What?"

"You could've broken the wards on the floo weeks ago. Why now?"

Prince kept his mouth shut.

"Boy... I want an answer," Voldemort said flipping him around to face him.

"Severus. I was waiting for Severus."

Voldemort's eyes darted up to Severus' face.

"Why?"

"I don't know any addresses, so I was going to tap into the return. Severus was the only person I knew going somewhere I wanted to go."

"Hogwarts."

Prince looked down and gritted his teeth.

"You're going to pay for this," Voldemort whispered right into Prince's ear.

"Severus. Apparate in from now on."

"I may be later because of it, but I will follow your orders."

Voldemort twisted Prince around again keeping a tight grip on him.

"Tomorrow then," Voldemort said as he passed by.

"Yes my lord."

Severus let his gaze slip to Prince who suddenly grinned and winked at him. Severus frowned, and went outside so he could apparate from outside the wards. Prince still rolled in his mind. Had Prince wanted him to apparate in and out? Did Prince want him to brave the elements? The apparation wards were lowered for thirty seconds every summoning so only he would be affected, by the inability to apparate from Hogwarts. What did Prince want?

Suddenly Severus looked up. Something was wrong. He couldn't put his finger on it. He waited a long while till it hit him. The wards. They were weaker than the last time he had walked through them. Was this it? Was Prince weakening the wards?

**sceneswitch**

Prince was strapped around the wrists and strung up. Hanging above a deep hole so he could be lowered to eye level, as he was at the moment, and still hang.

"I haven't been given the opertunity to torture you fully in quite some time, boy. I think I miss it."

Prince knew better than to talk unless he was given a direct question, so he kept his silence.

Voldemort stepped infront of him and waved a hand. Prince felt his shirt fall off him and disappear before it hit the ground. Next his socks. Then his trousers. Prince closed his eyes as his underwear slipped off.

"You know I've been very considerate of you," he said, beginning to walk around him. "The trauma of rape and all that. I've been very... Restraint."

Prince opened his eyes to find Voldemort standing directly infront of him.

"But in this room," he whispered running his fingers along Prince's body. "You are not safe."

"I always wondered. Is this an attraction thing, or a control thing?"

"It wouldn't work as control if there weren't some form of attraction, Prince."

Prince nodded his head absentmindedly. Voldemort reached out for his jaw and held it tight. Slowly Voldemort trailed his tongue along Prince's bottom lip. Prince tried to keep exceptionally still, feeling sick and disgusted by Voldemort. Voldemort slid his tongue inside his mouth and ran it along the ridge in the top of his mouth. Prince flinched.

Pain flared in Prince's knee, causing him to cry out in pain.

"I always find maces to be rather brutal. No subtlety, but I suppose they can be rather useful."

Prince didn't need to look down to know his knee would now be a mesh of blood and bone. He screamed again as he felt the blunt metal spokes tear through the palms of his feet. The pain shot up through his entire body, leaving him shaking in its aftershocks.

"Hmm... You don't like this one do you?" Voldemort said gently into his ear. Prince turned his face away from him.

"That was unwise, Prince. I know your weakest spot," Voldemort said tracing his fingers along Prince's side, lingering over a point in the middle of his ribcage, where the skin was the most sensitive. Prince sucked in a deep breath. Voldemort stepped back slightly and took aim. He smiled cruelly at him, then swung the mace into Prince's most defenseless part of the body. Prince screamed as his ribs all shunted and cracked sickeningly. The pain nearly completely overwhelming him. Slowly his convulsing stopped and the pain receded from excrutiating to mind numbing. Prince opened his eyes. Voldemort wasn't in his line of sight, he was behind him somewhere.

"Don't mistake this, boy. This punishment is for your utter disobedience, not because you almost succeeded," Voldemort said. "If you had managed to tap into the floo reversal you would have been rejected by Hogwart's wards, and spat out back here."

Voldemort swung the mace into Prince's elbows. Prince screamed as the weight of his own body increased the pain. His arm felt as if it were being ripped in two at the elbow joint. He could feel the bone jutting out of his skin, the blood trickling down his arm. He immediately started to put his weight onto his other arm, trying to save himself some hurt. Tears streamed down his cheeks. "You bear my mark, boy. It's spread across your face. Maybe one day I'll let you see it." Voldemort then rummaged around, and dragged out a stool and something else, which he put on the table. A few more minutes, and Harry's arms burned with the strain, along with the pain, it was starting to reach unbearable levels.

Voldemort suddenly cut him loose, the impact with the ground setting the pain alight again.

"Stand."

Prince looked up at Voldemort with an unbelievable expression on his face. It was at times like these when he remembered how insane Voldemort was.

"I can't."

"You will stand up, walk over to this stool, and sit on it. Then I will heal you."

Prince felt desire and desperation well up in his chest. Healing would half the pain, was it worth it? Did he have a choice?

He fell twice in the five feet to the stool, hobbling on one foot for most of it. Slowly he edged himself onto the stool. He felt the cool sensation of a healing spell creep into his system. Checking everywhere and lingering on his injuries. Suddenly Voldemort was behind him.

"Elbows take a while to heal."

Prince jumped when Voldemort suddenly started to brush his hair with a hairbrush.

"You have such lovely hair. Thick, curly."

Prince shivered from the contact Voldemort was giving him.

"Now, what shall we do next," Voldemort said softly, continuing the brushing. "I quite liked the mace, but it's not as much fun. As I said before, not very subtle. I thought maybe some knife play - but that's not imaginative enough for what you've done, so then I thought..."

Voldemort went on, crooning as he brushed Prince's hair rhythmically, slowly making Prince more and more uneasy and fearful. Panic had nearly completely set in when Voldemort withdrew.

**sceneswitch**************

Draco had him in the corner of the bookshelves.

"What is it with you and libraries? Do you have some fasination with books that I've not yet been told about? Librarian fetish perhaps?" Prince said in jest. He looked at Draco's face then laughed. "You do!"

"Shut up," he muttered, kissing him again. They were going hot and heavy when they heard a cough. Prince pulled out and saw Voldemort leaning on a bookcase a bit further up the isle. Draco shot off Prince.

"Did you want something?" Prince said politely.

"Follow," he said straightening up. "You too, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco and Prince shared a look and followed Voldemort as they fixed themselves.

"Did he just find out?" Draco whispered to Prince.

"No, he knows... He's just never..."

"Been there. Caught us. Seen us," Draco muttered.

**sceneswitch*************

"You and young Malfoy..."

"What about us?" Prince asked immediately tense. Voldemort took him in for a minute.

"How serious are you?"

"I see him once a fortnight. Infact he's the only person my age I ever see."

"Do you like him? Care for him?"

Prince sensed something in the tone.

"Do you have a problem with this?" Prince asked calmly.

"In theory no. In practise... I am more possesive of you then I thought."

"What does that mean?"

Voldemort stood up and glided around the table to him.

"It means," Voldemort said running a knuckle against his lips. "That I am a little more possesive of you than I thought. And that I am worried if you have something of your own, you'll forget who you belonged to," he said straddling him on the chair. "And that I might have to remind you."

Voldemort's hands moved up Prince's shirt.

"I won't forget," Prince said quickly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. And you know I'll stop it the second you don't like it. You know that," Prince said his voice slightly panicked.

"Hmm," Voldemort said withdrawing a hand and running it along Prince's neck. "I suppose I do. I wouldn't recommend getting too serious. I also might get a bit territorial of you."

"I... Understand," Prince said slowly.

**sceneswitch*******************************

"How many will we send through?"

"It depends. Do we want to take the school or simply get rid of Dumbledore?" Prince said looking over the blueprints on the table. "If we wanted to take the school we'd need everything we've got."

Voldemort stepped up behind Prince and slithered an arm around his waist.

"Just an assassination team I think. No point in destroying Hogwarts just yet," Voldemort said gently.

"Who then?" Lucius said, expertly ignoring the way Voldemort and Prince were interacting.

"Yourself. You know the school well."

"And there's no point in sending someone who hasn't blown their cover," Prince said snidely.

"Exactly," Voldemort said, his hand wandering up inside Prince's shirt. Prince shivered slightly as Voldemort's hand grazed along his sensitive sides.

"Bella. Rodulfus. Rabastian."

"And Greyback," Voldemort said.

"That's a bit of a wild card, My Lord. There will be your followers' children in the school as well."

"He won't be a werewolf on that night. He's an exceptional fighter."

"Perhaps we ought to consider who we want over more time," Lucius said.

"Yes. I'll see both of you later, I assume?"

Lucius nodded. "Yes, my lord," he said, both bowing before they left the room. Draco stood by the door and Prince went to leave with him when Voldemort pulled him back and kissed him harshly on the lips. Voldemort let go of him and Prince staggered back. Draco was waiting out side the roonow and Prince slipped out the door.

"Let's go outside," he said quietly. They both walked in silence until they reached the outside of the manor.

"Why does he do that," Draco muttered angrily. "He damn well knows..."

"Draco -"

"I hate it. He shouldn't touch you like that, or kiss you, or... Anything."

"Draco," Prince said gathering him in his arms. "You have to understand something," Prince said quietly. "I belong to him. I'm... His. He owns me. Everything I do he controls. You and I will only be together as long as it amuses him. And he will do whatever he feels like to remind us of the fact."

Draco pulled out of the embrace and kissed Prince on the lips gently, getting more heated with each moment. It wasn't long until they were up against a tree.

**And they have sex, isn't that lovely. Incase you guys didn't get it, Voldemort is still planning on killing Dumbledore, he's just being nicer about the whole 'Lucius you have failed me' thing.  
**

**Okay**, **now Prince hasn't been sleeping well still. Those nightmare and whatnot. Still gets random flashes of things but they don't make much sense.**

**O_o! So Draco has carried out the whole lets kill Dumbledore thing and failed! He caved into Dumbledore's offer and he was swept away with the Order to hide! Exciting stuff! So Draco and Harry are pretty much over :P**

**Why did Draco do it though? I'll let you ponder... Nah. I'll tell you. He hates the way Voldemort treats Prince and knows that he would never want to be used in such a way. Prince turns Draco! O the irony.  
**

**Suddenly - and I still don't know how this was suppose to happen - Ginny gets captured. Just for fun. So Prince is at a D.E meeting, sees Ginny and -  
**

"_No, wait,_" Prince hissed, placing a hand on Voldemort's arm. "_I know her, don't I?_" he said stepping down towards her.

"_That's why you stopped me_?"

Prince was kneeling down infront of her.

"Can I keep her?" he asked in english, brushing her hair from her face. Voldemort rolled his eyes.

"You already have one pet Weasley," he said.

"And he's been useful, no?"

"She will not."

"You could use her as leverage," he said reaching out for her face. Ginny instantly recoiled from him.

"And what would you use her for?" The Death Eaters in the hall shifted slightly.

Prince ignored it and stared at her for a moment before he sprung up and turned sharply to face Voldemort.

"Can I keep her?" he asked again. Voldemort eyed him for a moment. "Please," Prince finally drawled sarcastically.

"Well, since you said please."

Prince smirked and reached down for Ginny.

"_There will be a price,_" Voldemort hissed.

"_In sweat or blood?_" Prince asked.

"_Sweat._"** Voldemort means Harry will have to go torture some people.  
**

Prince nodded, then pulled himself and Ginny into the floor, bringing them out in Bill's cell.

"I brought you someone for company," Prince said.

"Ginny!" Bill gasped.

"Bill?" she questioned. "Bill!"

Ginny shot into her older brother's arms and sobbed.

"Shhh, it's okay. I'm here," Bill comforted her. Prince looked on with a strange look on his face. "Prince," Bill said still clinging onto Ginny. Prince looked up. "Thank you." Prince shrugged.

"I wanted to see what a family is like. And besides, I don't think I've ever seen a girl my age before."

"You have -"

"If I have then those memories are now closed to me," Prince cut off briskly. "I have a price to pay now," he said turning, but stopping just before the bars. "Perhaps you'll consider our offer now, when someone else's freedom is tied to it too."

"That is... Very cunning," Bill said blankly.

Prince smiled grimly at the wall. "Yes, yes... I suppose it is," he murmured.

Ginny woke slowly up to the feeling of someone pressing their hand against her mouth. She opened her eyes to see Prince inches from her face holding her down gently.

"You have to be quiet, I don't want to wake Bill," he said gently. Ginny nodded her head and Prince let her sit up and face him. He tentatively reached out to her face, she drew back slightly, fear throbbing through her. "I'm not going to... I mean. Sorry, it's just," he whispered running a hand through her hair and along her nose. "You fascinate me. I don't... I don't remember much, but when I look at you it's like... There's this whole other world I've forgotten about as well." He shook his head and smiled. "I sound crazy don't I?"

"Not really I suppose," she said gently, trying to calm herself down. Bill had told her about Prince. His friendship, and loss of memory. He gave a 'hmm' and took her hand from her lap and explored it.

"Thank you," Ginny said suddenly. Prince's head came up and he frowned.

"For what?"

"Bringing me to Bill. I thought he was dead."

"And now your mother will mourn the loss of two children," he murmured returning his attention to her hand.

"Thank you," she repeated.

"You're welcome," he said with a small smile. "Ginny."

He said the name as if it were a foreign language. Testing it out cautiously, as if her name wouldn't work for him.

"I ought to go. Voldemort will have my head if I'm tired tomorrow," he said.

"What are you to him? Voldemort I mean," she asked, stalling.

"I'm... A toy. An experiment, maybe even an investment. I also know, that for some reason, I'm not expendable."

Ginny furrowed her forehead in thought and Prince chuckled quietly.

"What?"

"I suddenly understand the expression 'cute' now."

Ginny blushed a furious red and she was silently thankful for the dark lighting.

"Bye," he whispered and disappeared into the floor.

"Bye," she said to the air, lay back down, and went to sleep.

**By the way time passes inbetween most of these *** its up to you how long you want the spaces to be, remember though - we're in seventh book territory. I like to think it's late July at the moment. Maybe early August... 1997  
**

Bill woke up and saw Prince lying next to Ginny, his arm around her waist, keeping her close. Bill glared for a moment, then tried to calm himself. He kicked Prince's shoe. Prince's eyes fluttered open.

"What?" he said sleepily.

"Get off my sister."

"What's your problem?" he grumbled, making no move to let go of Ginny.

"Brother's prerogative. Do you do this often?"

"Often as I can."

"Why?"

"I don't get nightmares when I sleep next to her, Bill. Not once. Do you know what that feels like? To have a good night's sleep after nearly a year of restless nights?"

Bill glared slightly but understood.

"And besides, I'm drawn to her."

Bill looked at him sharply, but Prince was already settling back down.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I feel like I know her. And it's what Voldemort said before, 'trust you to grow attached to a Weasley.' Maybe it wasn't just Harry that convinced me to befriend you. Maybe..."

"Maybe what, Prince."

"Maybe... I had an... Alterior motive..."

Prince fell into sleep again. Leaving Bill with a sick sense of dread.

**Now, Ginny is like a catalyst, because a lot of his memeories include her or references to her so he starts to get more and more nightmares, and more unruly, and more angsty, but he can't tell Ginny about the memories becaus of the rules so he gets all frustrated and angry and lashes out at Voldemort all the time and eventually Voldemort get sick of it.**

**Emotional yell just happened. Prince in near tears:  
**

"She's messing up your memories. Hurting you," Voldemort said, smoothly approaching him.

"Helping me."

"It's tearing you apart," Voldemort whispered into his ear, wrapping his arms around Prince's waist. Prince turned his face away, but Voldemort just pulled him in tighter.

"You just don't like it when I act up. You don't want me to know who I am."

"That's part of it, I suppose," Voldemort said lightly. "But remembering who you are is screwing with your mind. You're barely functioning as it is. These flashes... They mean nothing, reveal nothing. They simply give you more questions."

"Questions she can answer."

"No. She can't, because if you don't bring her down to me in the next hour, I'm going to cut out her tongue, chop off her fingers, and take her magic to feed into you. And she'll never be able to communicate to anyone ever again."

Voldemort removed his tight grip around Prince and turned him around to face him.

"I will not have you like this," he said running a finger over Prince's face. "It cannot be tolerated," his eyes flashed darkly as he dropped his hand. "Now go."

Prince moved swiftly towards the door but stopped.

"I don't want her to die."

"Unfortunate."

"What... What can I give you, to save her?"

Voldemort smirked slightly.

"What do you have?"

Prince came up to their cell door and slid it open.

"Say goodbye to your brother, Miss Weasley," he said holding out a hand.

"Why?" Bill said standing up with Ginny.

"Because she's coming with me. And if you're lucky you'll never see her again," he said with his eyes flashing darkly.

Bill reached out and pulled Ginny in behind him.

"Just you try it," he snarled. Prince stepped into the cell and approached him.

"Move."

"No."

"Now."

Bill punched Prince in the face. Prince staggered backwards slightly and put a finger to his swollen lip. He hissed in pareseltongue and Bill flew to the wall, his arm bolted there. Prince then backhanded Ginny and she fell to the ground.

"Say goodbye," Prince ground out. Ginny hesitantly stood up and kissed her brother on the cheek.

"Love you," she said.

"Love you too, Ginny," Bill choked out.

Prince led her out and shut the door behind him. Bill was left shackled to the wall.

It was dark by the time Prince came back. Bill felt the anger that had drained away from him come back strong as ever. He snarled as he stepped through the bars. The shackled was released and Bill ran full pelt at him, arm raised fully intending on punching the living daylights out of him. Prince waved a hand and Bill was brought full force to Prince's feet by two shackles.

"How could you!" he yelled struggling against the bonds. "Where's my sister!"

"Bill. You've forgotten who I am. Who you are. Our positions... You raised a hand to me, a very dangerous move, a very bad move."

Prince's quiet soft tone calmed Bill down considerable.

"It cannot be tolerated."

Prince slowly crouched down next to him.

"What do you think the punishment for hitting the Dark Lord's heir is?" he whispered right into his ear. Bill trembled at his voice. Prince stood. He hissed in parseltongue and a whip appeared infront of Bill. He paled. Prince picked it up and slowly walked behind him. Bill struggled at the restraints again, but it was no use.

Bill screamed as the first bolt of pain fell across his back. Then another. And another. Bill lost count. He knew what the end result was going to be. The pattern that was going to end up there.

It had been a shock when Prince began whipping the prisoners. Infact a few things had changed around the prison. Depending on what was on your plaque, you were either 'on' the market or 'off' the market. If you were 'on,' it meant that the Death Eaters could torture you whenever they wanted. 'Off' meant they couldn't for whatever reason. However Bill knew that if you were about to go on the market for the first time Prince gave you his pattern.

"There we go, Bill. That'll be nice when the light comes in," Prince said. "Satisfied?" he spat.

"You've done your end of the bargain, I suppose."

Bill tensed, he hadn't even realized another person had came into the room. Three guesses who.

"Going to do yours?"

Voldemort hurmmed for a moment. "Most likely. Otherwise you'll make trouble, won't you," he muttered.

Bill woke blearily. He was lying on his stomach. It was dark. Night maybe? Either way it didn't matter. He couldn't move.

It had been five days since he had been put on the 'market.' Every day, every night, he was tortured. Pain rippled through him with every movement.

Vaguely he was aware of another presence, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"Bill?"

He recognised the voice. Prince.

"Damnit. This is what happens when you torture your friends, boy," he muttered to himself. "They might stop talking to you," he grumbled. Bill felt something ice cold touch his inflamed back. He jerked.

"Shh, Bill. It's okay. It'll help. I promise."

Prince continued to rub the cool substance into his back and whisper soothing things. Soon enough Prince had finished and sat Bill up against the wall. Bill watched in silence as Prince healed his broken leg. Prince then healed his face. He avoided Bill's eyes though. Bill caught his hand.

"What're you doing?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

"I'm fixing you."

"You're the reason I'm hurt in the first place."

"Really? Am I?" Prince whispered the response.

"Where's Ginny?" Bill asked desperately. "Where? Is she alive? What's happened to her? Tell me! Please!"

"I can't tell you anything, or I'll be breaking the deal."

"What deal?"

"I can't say," Prince replied softly.

"Damnit Prince! Then what's the point in -"

"Healing you? Keeping you around?" he interjected coldly. "It couldn't possible be the fact that I've known you ever since I was little? Or that you are the only other constant in my life besides Voldemort? Course not," he said bitterly, shaking his head, tears beginning to run down his face. "It's not that I feel so overwhelmingly guilty about getting you hurt. No. Such compassionate reasons are beyond evil people like me," he took a deep breath. "I am simply being selfish, allowing you to live. I'm using you. For my own agenda. I'm just thinking of myself and how bored I'll be without you. You... _Amuse_ me."

Bill still held Prince's hand. Bill was staring at it intensely, knowing he was over reacting. He knew Prince was just as helpless as himself.

"You would have died a long time ago if it weren't for me. I sometimes wonder if death isn't preferable," Prince said grimly. Bill tightened his grip.

"Don't you think like that," Bill said fiercely.

"I can't. Rule four. Don't commit suicide. Typical. He thought of everything, didn't he?"

Bill raised a hand and pushed some loose strands of hair from his face. Prince's eyes met Bill's.

"Bill, I -"

"Shh. It's okay. I get it," he said in his raspy voice. "It's hard. Being here."

Prince nodded his head.

"Did you like her?"

"What?"

"Ginny," Bill said softly. "Did you like her?"

"Yeah. She was great."

Bill shook his head.

"Not like that. Did you _like_ her."

Sadness flashed over Prince's face.

"I don't know. Maybe? If I had gotten a chance -"

Prince cut himself off, tears beginning to run down his face.

"What have I done?" he sobbed.

"Did you kill her?"

Prince shook his head head. "I can't tell you."

"Prince -"

Prince pressed his lips onto Bill's. Bill was startled, but soon began to kiss back. Prince pushed deeper, his tongue exploring. Bill beginning to guide Prince into a smoother pattern. Suddenly Prince pulled out, leaving Bill breathless.

"You have to stop asking me about Ginny. Please."

Bill nodded his head after a moment.

"And we really shouldn't do this again."

"Why not?"

"If Voldemort knew -"

"He already knows, Prince. He knows you care about me. He can still use it against you."

"If Voldemort knew about this kind of relationship... He would... Remind me who I belonged to."

Bill took a moment.

"You mean he would -"

"He used to do a lot of, before Rold. He's toned it down remarkable since then. But when Draco and I started to... I convinced him it was just an experiment, that I didn't care, but he was still really... But with you, I wouldn't be able to convince him it's just a fling or something. He'd know we were..."

"Serious," Bill finished for him. Prince nodded his head. "I couldn't go through... that... Again. He was awful. At least now there's a balance of sorts. I don't want to rock the boat till I have to. Do you get that?"

"I get that."

"You should rest," Prince said standing.

"How're you sleeping?"

Prince paused at the question.

"I'll survive," he said shortly.

"You could always -"

"No Bill."

"You did it with... With Ginny."

"And we saw how well that worked out," Prince muttered.

"Is that why -"

"No. It was... Something different."

"Then why -"

"Because Voldemort said if I ever needed someone to cuddle next to his door was always open," Prince spat. "If he ever found out he would make sure I never slept alone again."

Bill shut his eyes, trying to keep himself from feeling that pit of dispair every time he thought about the situation he was in. That Prince was in.

"Goodnight," Prince said to him.

"Goodnight.

**Okay I know it's a bit stuck together, but I'm sure you all have imaginations enough to fix it, I reposted it because I got confused all over the place, and yes I will be finishing it.**


	14. Chapter 14

**_Okay guys, sorry, but you know life is more important. Probably got some more of this to come ::P_**

Prince sat down at dinner eyeing the man across the table. He was dressed in muggle clothing. Light hair, brown eyes. He looked just average. Prince glanced up at Voldemort who seemed to be completely ignoring the dinner guest and decided to follow suit. The whole thing was a bit strange. Prince rubbed his eyes. He was shattered. His dreams had been getting worse, the lather bound journel getting more and more full. This time it was about a camera flashing. Apparently he really hated cameras.

Suddenly muggle man turned to Voldemort. "I think it is possible," he said in a heavily American accent. Voldemort nodded.

"Do whatever you need. Take whatever. Tell me when you are ready," Voldemort replied. The American stood and left the room. Prince frowned.

"What was that about?" he asked.

"A failsafe. The war is getting to that stage where one needs to hide a few cards," he said absentmidedly.

Prince woke up. It wasn't his bedroom. He sat up sharply, Voldemort was sitting near by. Prince gritted his teeth.

"How long have I lost?" he asked casually.

"Three weeks," Voldemort said lightly. "Don't worry, you haven't missed much."

Prince swung his feet over the side of the bed.

"You're not suppose to stand just yet," Voldemort said. Prince eyed Voldemort. He didn't have a book or a paper or a cup with him. He had something else to entertain him. Someone else.

"Who told you that?" Prince said. Voldemort gave a smirk that was so small no one else would have been able to detect it. It meant Voldemort was happy, usually it meant he was happy because of someone's actions or ideas.

The door swung open and Prince recognised the man that came in, but he couldn't remember where from.

"One more check, then I will leave," he said. American. He was the strange man who was here before. Prince tensed slightly as he approached, but the man didn't seem fazed. He stopped right in front of him and stared at him. Prince was getting a bit unnerved then suddenly he nodded and turned back to Voldemort.

"All set," he said.

"Good. Thank you," Voldemort said. The man left and Prince was starring at Voldemort expectantly.

"If I wanted you to know what he'd done, I'd have let you keep the memories now, wouldn't I?" Voldemort said standing up. "Stay in bed for the rest of the day."

Prince flopped back down when Voldemort left the room. He tried to feel if anything was different but he couldn't. No new scars, nothing. Alas. He'd probably find out later. And not in a fun way.

* * *

It was the second meeting they had had today and Prince was getting tired. He had sat back for only a moment, closed his eyes for only a second.

"Prince!"

"I'm awake!" Prince yelled immediately. The whole table turned to look at him. He grinned sheepishly at them. The meeting went smoothly after that small incident, though he still got a few little chuckles when people met his eyes.

"Prince," Voldemort called over gently to him. Prince made his way through the small group over to Voldemort. "Tomorrow are the Vampire meetings. I cannot afford you to be... off your game."

"I won't be," he said running his hand through his hair, a nervous habit he'd aquired. It's not like it ever lay quite right anyway.

"Can you guarentee me that?" Voldemort questioned.

"Yes. I'll be fine. A good night's sleep is all I need," he said trying to wave Vodemort off.

"It's a shame you've not been sleeping," Voldemort said bluntly. Prince flashed his eyes up then back down. "I know the only way you can guarentee that. I am avaliable to -"

"Shut up," Prince snarled. The room seemed to quiet down. Voldemort's gaze was cold. Prince closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Sorry. I'm tired. I think I'll have an early night. If I may be excused?" Prince said trying to placate Voldemort. Voldemort nodded and Prince swept out of the room. He didn't go to his bedroom, instead he went outside and ran, he ran round and round the manor until he was utterly exsausted then went to his bed completely wiped at midnight. He woke up sweating at one, screaming at half one, panicking at two fifteen. Prince shook his head and stood up. Slowly he ambled down the corridors until he reached the one door he had never tried to enter. He stood outside it for a few moments until he gently knocked on it. He half hoped Voldemort wouldn't hear it, but sure enough the door swung open. Voldemort raised an eyebrow and Prince realised he hadn't quite figured out what he was going to say. Voldemort sighed and walked back into the room leaving the door open for him. Prince stepped cautiously inside. It was spare but luxsurious. Meant for sleeping in and nothing really more. Prince eyed the bed and slipped into the other side of it. Prince took a breath.

"I need con -"

Voldemort's arm came out and pulled him in closer then relaxed, just lying over him. Prince closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

He woke up screaming.

"Shh, shh, calm down," Vodemort said sitting beside him. Prince woke up properly, remembering where he was, the nightmare fading from his mind. "I didn't realise it would happen that quickly," Voldemort said. Prince realised that Vodemort was fully dressed.

"What time is it?"

"Nine o'clock. They'll be here in two hours," Prince nodded. "I was only out the bed for fifteen minutes. Does it always happen quite as fast?"

Prince rubbed his head. "I can get an hour, maybe half an hour in lately. It's... It's been getting worse."

Voldemort nodded and stood up. Prince only just realised Voldemort had been holding his hand when he lost the contact. "I'll look into that. It's getting to be disruptive."

Prince nodded. "I'd best get to my own room," he said slipping out the bed.

"Remember to eat something before they arrive."

Prince nodded and left the room.

Prince got through that day easily. He didn't feel tired. Infact, he felt better than he had in weeks. The vampires were a bit strange, but quite witty and intelligent. Prince knew he was out of his depth intelectually, but he didn't mind. He was simple in awe of them instead of feeling jealous or small like a few of the others at the meeting. Dinner was a little strange. Prince didn't think he'd ever felt so self consious about eating before in his life, the vampires had glasses of blood, Prince didn't want to know where from. Eventually it turned into a mingling session of sorts.

"So, what age are you Prince?"

Prince looked up at the question. "Uh," he looked round at Voldemort, but he was busy involved with some other conversation. "Eighteen?"

"You do not know your own age?" the Vampire - Daniel asked with a slight lilt to his voice. A mix of maybe Italian or French.

"It's more the matter of not knowing the date," Prince said smiling.

"You don't know the date?" Daniel asked. Prince shrugged.

"I don't really need to know it," Prince said lightly.

"I asked a Death Eater earlier what your... relationship with the Dark Lord was. He seemed terrified to answer," Daniel said. Prince grinned.

"He was probably terrified of getting it wrong."

"So, perhaps I should ask someone who knows," Daniel said. Prince's eyes flickered up. "So... Prince. What's your relationship with the Dark Lord?" Prince swallowed and looked up at Voldemort, still unaware of the conversation.

"I am... His servant," Prince said calmly.

"That's exceptionally vague."

"It's a vague question," Prince replied.

"Are you his son? His lover?" Daniel asked. "You smell of him."

"I am related to him. I have the parseltongue trait. I'm his heir, his failsafe. I'm not his lover," Prince answered carefully. Daniel nodded.

"Are you anyone's lover?" Daniel asked. Prince's eyes widened slightly.

"What?"

"Are you someone else's lover?"

"No. Why -"

"Good. Are you a loyal follower of Voldemort?" Daniel asked quieter, stepping a little bit closer.

"Loyal? Of course," Prince said shifting.

"How about willing?" Daniel asked stepping closer again. Prince swallowed.

"I think that's a question you already know the answer to. Why don't you ask me what you really want to know?" Prince asked gently.

"I think it would still consist of the word willing," Daniel whispered into his ear before walking away. Prince let out a breath. Well... That was new.

After the Vampires had all excused themselves to bed Voldemort took Prince into his study.

"Today went well," Voldemort said sitting down in his chair. "What did you think?"

Prince arched an eyebrow. "Does that matter?"

"I suppose it does. Considering one of the vampires made a pass at you."

Prince looked up at Voldemort, carefully weighing his expression. He wasn't angry.

"Daniel," Prince said casually running his finger over one of the books on the shelves.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes slightly, thinking. "That could be useful," he said lightly.

"I'm a bargining chip now?" Prince said bitterly.

"Indeed you are." Prince looked up again wary. Voldemort looked happy. That didn't bode well for him. "I need you to be sharp tomorrow as well. I didn't expect them to be as... tricky as they were," Voldemort said lightly.

"I'll be fine," Prince said shrugging.

"Try this. Calming potion, before you go to sleep," Voldemort said withdrawing a vial and tossing it over. Prince nodded and left the study, quickly getting to his room. He downed the potion and fell onto his bed exsauhsted from the day. Meetings and thinking and everything had taken a lot out of him today, even if he had been well rested. If he hadn't slept the night before, well, he doubted he would have made it through the day.

He was asleep in blissful peace. An hour later he woke up screaming. Prince sobbed for a moment. If anything the nightmares were worse. They started off nice and gentle then slowly twisted and turned until it was too much, pain attacking him. He reached for his journel, he learnt something new about one of the faces he liked to call Giant Man. He was a teacher once, maybe. That's the thing about the dreams, he didn't how much was memory and how much was fantasy.

He looked over at the clock. Too early. He begrudgingly got himself out of bed and trailed along the corridors to Voldemort's room. He hated this, but the punishment for being tired he was sure would be worse.

"Didn't work?" The only thing Voldemort said. Prince just shook his head and he climbed into the bed. "I'll try something else then," he responded pulling Prince in close. Prince only nodded as tears suddenly welled up in his eyes. He hated this.

Morning came quickly enough. Prince woke up first this time, Voldemort's arm still encircled him, tighter than he had last time. Prince shifted slightly, trying to get out of Voldemort's hold without waking him. Fail.

"Stop squirming."

"Let go then," Prince said lightly.

"No."

Prince felt his insides go cold. This was exactly why he hated Voldemort. Hated being near him. That fear of just not knowing...

"Need to talk to you, and I'm sleepy," Voldemort mumbled. Prince nearly burst out laughing. Voldemort was half dazed. The word 'sleepy' would have otherwise never came from his mouth. A few minutes and Voldemort gained awareness. He ran a thumb along Prince's skin gently.

"About this vampire..."

"Daniel?" Prince asked, trying not to snap.

"Yes. I have an idea about him."

"What?"

"There's a definate hierachy about the way the vampires operate. I haven't figured out where everyone fits yet, but I do believe he's near the top. Very near the top."

"So..."

"So would you say he was... interested in you?"

"Perhaps. He might have been teasing me," Prince replied.

"And you?"

"What about me?"

"Are you attracted to him?"

"I've only just met him," Prince snarled pulling out of Voldemort's embrace. "Merlin's sake I'm not a whore you can just throw -"

Voldemort grabbed Prince's arm to stop him getting out of the bed and pulled him sharply back into him, encircling an arm around him to trap him.

"Quiet," snapped Voldemort. Prince fell silent immediately. "Trust me when I say the art of seduction is not your forte. He would have you for breakfast. No, I want you to do the opposite," Voldemort said stroking his hair. "Be completely unattainable, courteous, but no more. Understand?" Prince nodded slowly. "Good now stay still."

Voldemort's lips pressed down onto Prince's neck, Prince immediately stuggled.

"What the hell are you -"

Voldemort's hand swiftly came up to cover his mouth. Prince still struggled but soon gave in. Who knew his neck was this damned sensitive?

"There," Voldemort said finally withdrawing. "With the way your shirt lies he'll see it. If he's looking," Voldemort said lifting a finger to Prince's face. Prince nearly flinched. His breathing was heavy, Voldemort's hand still clamped down hard on his mouth. "The vampires will already be awake, and with their super hearing they'll probably hear you leaving the room," Voldemort said letting go of Prince and shoving him out the bed. Prince hit the floor with a thump. He wasn't sure how he managed it, but Voldemort had a way of making him thoroughly humiliated. "Now get going, after all you made it quite clear you weren't my... whore."

Prince glared furiously but soon stood up and stalked out of the room. He made it two hallways before he punched a wall. Prince gasped as the pain shot through his arm.

"Not a very clever thing to do," came a snarky voice from down the hallway. Prince looked up and saw Daniel at the end of the corridor.

"No, I don't suppose it was," Prince muttered, fully aware that the vampire could hear him. "I'll see you at the meeting," he said nodding. He placed his hand on the wall and pulled himself into his room. He got changed quickly and ate breakfast in his room. He looked at the clock. Enough time to go see Bill.

He slipped into the meeting just before it began. He sat down in his chair and nodded at the faces he remembered.

"Where have you been?" Voldemort muttered.

"Upstairs," Prince said lightly.

"I don't want you seeing -"

"You can't stop me seeing him. We've had this discussion before. I believe my sanity came up in it," Prince said calmly.

"Not this week. Understand?"

"Fine then."

The meeting went on. Prince once again having to use all his wit to keep up with the pace of conversation, only half noticing Daniel's gaze on him. The meeting broke for lunch, and low and behold who came over to talk to him. Daniel.

"I couldn't help but marvel at your mask during the meeting," Daniel said with his accented voice.

"Yes, it is a marvel I suppose," Prince replied.

"How do you remove it?"

"Pardon?"

"How do you remove your mask? I can see that your skin and the fabric have almost... melded together," Daniel said.

"I don't."

"Excuse me?"

"I don't remove the mask," Prince said. Daniel stared at him for a moment. Even though it was only a moment Prince knew how quickly Vampires thought. He could have a full hours reflection in that moment. Daniel's eyes drifted down to his shirt collar and he lifted a finger to his neck.

"I thought you said you had no lovers."

Prince simply shrugged. "I wasn't lying, if that's what you're getting at. It doesn't mean things don't get... complicated. Complicated and easily rocked. Daniel."

Daniel's eyes flickered up. "Have I rocked it?"

"Didn't have this thing on my neck yesterday, did I?" Prince responded, acting a lot braver than he actually felt.

"He acts horrific towards you."

"Thank you for your input. Please excuse me," Prince said politely and walked away out of the room.

He was just down the hallway before he was stopped by a vampire he didn't know the name of yet.

"Daniel is interested in you."

"I had noticed," Prince said stopping. Knowing he wasn't going to get past this person.

"It would be wise of you to respond to his persuits with a bit more enthusiasm."

"I don't want to encourage him."

"You are not open to his persuit?"

Prince thought about his answer carefully.

"I do not want to be open to his persuit. It is a mistake that I can and will aviod. Please excuse me," Prince said turning around and walking back the way he came.

**sceneswitch*****

"The Vampires have come to me in private to dicuss the terms of an alliance."

Prince looked around boredly. "Oh really?"

Voldemort nodded from behind his desk. "You were part of the terms."

Prince froze. "What do you mean, part of the terms? That's past tense. What... what have you agreed to?"

"Daniel was near the top, in fact... He was the top. A few decoys were in place but in the end it's his way or the high way. You acting off limits -"

"Made sure he'd have to cut a bargin with you if he ever wanted..." Prince closed his eyes. "What did you agree to?" he whispered.

"The vampires are a very important alli to have -"

"What!" Prince yelled.

"He'll have you, uninterrupted, for five days."

Prince couldn't respond. He was just frozen. A sick sense of dread came into his stomach.

"He has to return you alive, unturned, and with no pernament injuries. And you won't be leaving the grounds of course."

"I thought I said I wasn't some whore. I said that, didn't I? And that's exactly what he's going to do to me," Prince took a deep breath. "Do you not remember what this did to me last time?"

"This is entirely different -"

"_Elcropio_!" Prince yelled. Voldemort's desk exploded. Voldemort retaliated, throwing Prince out into the hallway. The fight was brutal, but eventually Voldemort gained the upper hand. He placed his foot on the falled Prince and leaned down.

"You are going to do this one way or another. I did explain to the vampires you would most likely be unwilling. They were most understanding and said they would use the most _delicate_ care with you." Voldemort gave him one good kick to the side. "You begin tomorrow. Do not make me make you."

Voldemort walked away from the ruin of the hallway. Prince didn't even get off the ground just let the floor suck him into the house and out again into Bill's cell.

"Prince?"

"Hey, Bill," he wheezed.

"What's wrong?" Bill asked shuffling over.

"Voldemort has..." Prince shook his head and sat up against the wall. "I'm not sure what the right way to put this is... Lent me to a vampire."

"What do you mean, lent?" Bill asked confused.

"It mean that Daniel can do whatever he wants to me as long as he doesn't kill me, for five whole days."

"What? He can't have possibly done that. Doesn't he realise -"

"How badly the last rape screwed me up? I did happen to metion that to him."

It was these kind of situations that always had Bill lost for words. It didn't matter how many times Prince had said something like this to him, he would never grasp it.

"I'm scared Bill," Prince said playing with a loose thread on his robe. "Daniel... Daniel really freaks me out."

Bill placed an arm around Prince and pulled him in close. He supposed he was everything to Prince. Brother, friend, advisor, comforter... boyfriend? Sometimes it was hard to figure out what he needed.

"Bill?"

"Yeah?"

"Wake me up soon," he said as he snuggled into Bill's side. Bill smiled.

"Sure thing."

**So Daniel has Prince for the five days, and he doesn't ever actually rape him (which is nice. I quite like Daniel.) So the next part of the story depends on you guys and the answer to this question. Do we want Draco dead or alive?** Very important whole story depends on the answer! **So Draco, dead or alive?**

**Lacy: I love you and miss you but I don't want annonmous people hating on me, still thinking of you!**

**Skreech: (saved by the bell?) Ah, Nagini... hm... she's away camping atm... or you can insert her into your reading if you want. Just imagine her around Voldemort. I don't think Prince would like Nagini tbh... Hangover from Harry I'm sure ::P**

**So, Draco alive or dead?  
**


	15. Chapter 15

**This is so unbelievably rushed. How unfortunate for you.  
**

**Okay, so the vampires are allies in the war now. More and more attacks are happening, Prince is heading up in more meetings for planning and stuff - because he has a super dooper mind link to Voldie and knows what he wants done. Prince is still slowly weakening the wards. He's been doing that for about two or three years now. Prince still writes in his journel as well, trying to figure out who people are.**

The explosion shook the walls. Prince turned in the corridor to look westward. He knew that's where the impact had happened. He felt the wards fall down and the house swarming up to protect itself in other ways. Prince smiled. Snape finally made his move.

He took off running towards the Entrance Hall. That's where the Manor was funneling the magic so that's most likely where the fighting was going on.

"_Crucio!_"

Prince paused for a split second and then suddenly stopped. A Death Eater turned his wand on someone, someone with flaming red hair.

"Garrison, get to the Entrance Hall, you're needed there!"

"But -"

"Now!"

The Death Eater stepped back and left swiftly. Prince knelt down beside the man, Merlin he looked like Bill.

"Are you a Weasley?" Prince asked him.

The man looked up at him and nodded slowly.

"Can you stand?"

The man got to his feet shakily. Prince nodded.

"Good enough, follow me."

"Why?"

Prince turned back around. The man had raised his wand and was now pointing it at him.

"I know where Bill is. Don't you want to see him?"

The wand wavered. Prince turned and started to move quickly along the halls, knowing the man would follow. Managing to navigate them through the battle that was now leaking to all over the Manor Prince led the Weasley to the attic and took him up the stairs. The redhead stopped at the doorway, looking around him appauled.

"Come on, Weasley. He's over here."

The man followed him slowly down the corridor of barred cells in the dimly lit room.

"Charlie!"

"Bill!" Charlie rushed over to where his brother was pressed up against the bars.

"What's going on?"

"There's an attacking taking place on the Manor," Prince supplied. Bill's eyes locked onto Prince.

"Prince... Why don't you go and see what's happening? Wouldn't the Dark Lord want to see you're alright?"

Prince nodded. "Yes, that's s a good point. I'll go now."

Prince nearly ran out of the attic. He couldn't release the prisoners. He couldn't. He wasn't. See, no releasing going on here.

Prince managed to get to the balcony overseeing the Entrance Hall and the battle that was currently raging there.

"Prince!"

Prince automatically ducked the curse as if flew at him. He nodded to Daneil to concerned eyes seemed never to leave him. A bang behind him revealed more Aurors. Prince grabbed the banister and vaulted himself into the air. He seemed to also fly to the ceiling beams and ran across them, maybe a hundred feet in the air. He stayed there and watched the fight unfold.

It was pretty spectacular. The light from curses and spells light everyone's faces in a ghostly light. He could tell the Manor was giving up. Entire wings of the place had melted away. Only the main part of the house was left now, and that was slowly shrinking. He knew Voldemort sensed it as well. They'd have to retreat. They'd overextended here. In the sheer arrogance that they would never be attacked here.

His mark started to burn and Prince easily sought out Voldemort's figure. He had made it to the bottom of the stairs and was summoning him. He was retreating.

Prince leap off the high beams and for a moment the whole hall stopped to watch the teen fall through the air and take a breath as they saw him land with a roll on the floor graceful as a cat. Then the battle recommened just as lethal. He was nearly at Voldemort when he felt a horrible tug at his navel.

Someone planted a portkey on him.

The world swirled out of view and he landed gracefully on his feet in some brightly lit room. It was busy with people. There was one exit with stairs going up the way. He was in a basement then? Prince moved for the door before he even thought it through.

"Prince!"

Prince turned his head to the voice. Bill. Bill was here, he was free, and safe.

"Bill," he breathed out.

Bill pulled him into a bone crushing hug.

"Bill, the people... I'm not used to... Could we go somewhere less crowded?"

Bill blinked then nodded. "Sure, let's go to the kitchen."

"What is this place?" Prince asked as they climbed the stairs.

"Order of the Pheonix headquarters."

Prince raised an eyebrow. "Really? Wow. I never thought..." Prince frowned when he saw the kitchen.

"What's wrong?"

"I recognise this place from my dreams..." Prince smiled. "I wonder what else I recognise?" he said stepping out the kitchen. Bill followed him through the door, only to see Prince being restrained by Fred and George.

"Hey Bill!"

"Good to see you, you know..."

"Alive. Unfortunately,"

"You seemed to have lost your wits."

"Were you really going to let him,"

"Walk out the front door?"

Bill looked at Prince and Prince glared at him.

"He's summoning me Bill. What else am I supposed to do? Roll on the floor screaming from the pain? Scratch my face off? He's not going to let me go, and you know how cruel he is."

Bill sighed. "I'm sure we can find you some pain relief."

"Indeed we can," came another voice. Severus Snape.

"He knows that it was us by the way. You can't go back to him," Prince said coldly.

Severus nodded. "I know. Tweedle dumb, tweedle dee, take him upstairs and lock him in one of the bedroom. Guard him until I come along and ward it for you."

**So Prince is** **imprisoned by the Order in the Black house. Which make his nightmares come back full force.**

**If you remember Bill was told that if he was lucky he'd never see Ginny again. Bill ain't so lucky and meets a comatosed Ginny. He takes it out on Prince, who asks to see her. He eventually does and he then releases her from a the curse he put on her. He tells Bill he had to make it seem like she had gone insane or Voldemort would never have let her leave.**

**Draco comes for a visit and reveals he's currently dating a Miss Hermione Granger(librarian fetish if yous all remember). Prince doesn't remember who she is**. **Eventually Prince is taken back to Voldemort's Manor to help inspect it. The magic has shrunk the house down to only three rooms. Prince's bedroom, Prince's attic cell, and Voldemort's room.**

**When Prince is in Voldemort's rooms Mad Eye's eye sees a trap door. So he, Bill, Kingsley, and Mad-Eye go down and inspect it. They find a giant room. Prince has some mad memory flash backs of himself and 'Harry' have some sort of ritual performed on them. When Prince wakes up - because he blacked out, he reveals a little sideroom in the cavern and in there is Harry's dead body. Prince is all like this explains how I knew Harry but never remembered him, and my nightmares as well (because 'Harry' transferred his parseltongue, magic, and memories onto him) also reason why his memory disappeared when he stopped being boy. So Prince has a mild meltdown because now he doesn't know if he's Harry Potter or not.  
**

**********Bill and Prince kinda drift because Bill's trying to get his life back together, and he starts to see Fleur again, but is torn between Prince and Fleur. So lots of drama there.**

**Voldemort is killed and Prince feels the shockwave through his skull. He can also feel Voldemort's wraith self - very weak - but he knows Voldemort will soon posses him.**

**Prince gets put on trial by the Ministry for war crimes.** **Prince pleads guilty to all charges, and Draco is put up as his lawyer. Even though Draco thought they were going to win, Prince sabotages his last testimony so he gets the dementor's kiss. He is sentenced to the dementor's kiss, and sacrifices himself knowing dying is the only way to stop Voldemort from coming back into the world. **

**Prince goes to Kings Cross, meets Voldemort there whom he tells to get on a train and never come back, and when he wakes up he's in St Mungos Pernament Ward and he remembers everything. Every obliviation, and all his years as Harry Potter, and the strange American guy who was actually a necromancer who created his dead body.**

**Prince walks out of the hospital, easily pulling away his black mask, and walks straight into a memorial being held on the street for Harry Potter. Seeing his friends up on the podium grieving for him properly with a body and everything he turns to go, allowing them to remember him as he was. As he leaves he bumps into Bill who is holding Fleur's hand. Bill doesn't recognise him with his mask off. Prince apologises for bumping into him and walks away.  
**

**He never returns.**


End file.
